


How to Be a Finn

by Ayashiki



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: A Better One lol, All The Tropes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, At Least If You Like More Finn, BUCKETS OF ANGST, Bigger One Than TFA, Canon-Typical Violence, Cuddles, Death, Fluff, HOWEVER!, Hurt/Comfort, I guess it's AU now, It's a New Cool Thing Kids, Kisses, Like It's War It Happens, Like a Very Tall Candle, Luke Has a Cameo, M/M, Nightmares, Or More StormPilot, Original Character(s), PTSD, Panic Attacks, Pretty Much The Whole Resistance Shows Up, Romance, Slow Burn, Study in Finn, The Last Jedi Alternative, Tropes, You Have Been Warned, party in the tags, plot without porn, poor Finn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-09 12:19:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 111,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12887724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayashiki/pseuds/Ayashiki
Summary: In a hindsight, all of it - the stolen childhood, the crash on Jakku, Han Solo's death, even the lightsaber to the back - was easier than living in this world of invisible social clues and inside jokes, the whirlwind of this ragtag family that defied any logic, the caring, the compassion, the love.And all the while people tell him: Finn, you are so brave! Finn, you are so strong! Finn, you are so kind! Finn, thank you for saving my life! And FN-2187 looks to the stars and desperately tries to find this "Finn" everyone seems to know in himself.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

_Part One: How to Laugh, Heal and Help_

 

 

When FN-2187 is nine years old, he learns about the Force.

The FN Corps, second battalion, are on their first visit to the Starkiller Base and FN-2187 is beside himself from joy. It's the first time in his entire life he's on a planet, even if he knows Starkiller isn't technically a real planet, and as the planets go, it isn't that impressive (even by FN-2187’s admittedly limited frame of reference that comes from sims and handful of First Order approved holos), but there's real soil crunching under his boots and real tiny trees with branches covered in fragrant, prickly leaves that tickle FN-2187’s chin, and the unfiltered air is crisp and cold and clean with strange metallic ting to it.

It's amazing.

FN-2187 wants to run around and roll on the ground and see if he could jump over some of the smallest trees.

Instead, he marches in the orderly formation, dozens of small feet of his comrades creating a perfectly synchronised rhythm as they move from their transport to the barracks. But that's okay. This is enough.

This field trip is a special treat for the second battalion, for the good work they've done. Specially invited by the Supreme Leader. They _earned_ it, the commander who delivered them the news had said. FN-2187 could burst with pride for his unit.

“On my command - stop!” says Captain MT-0013, to whom everyone in the second battalion refers to as “eM” and who has been in charge of him since he was about three years old and assigned to FN Corps. FN-2187 doesn't remember a time in his life when eM’s weathered, freckled face with blue eyes and red hair weren't present on periphery of his awareness.

There's a door in the stone, and a console for eM to key in the code, and the door opens. The second battalion marches in - quiet and perfect, although their unvoiced, unexpressed excitement hovers around Finn like a thousand of hummingbirds - and when the last child is inside, the door closes again. FN-2187 has to fight an urge to turn his head and soak in every last sight of the outside world before he is again confined to the metallic, lifeless inside of the base. As they march through the endless halls, however, FN-2187 realises this place still feels different from his home aboard the starship that carries FN Corps still in training. This place is _humming_ , for lack of a better word, humming with life. FN-2187’s home is dead quiet, like the space, like an empty room with no echo, all sounds drowned in the white sounds of machinery invading his dreams. Here, the never-ending buzz of artificial lights and life support exists alongside the faint smell of pine trees and the air shimmers around FN-2187 and it's… It's life. FN-2187 couldn't tell you how he knows it if you put blaster to his head, but he knows. This is what life feels like. Even if created by the First Order, even if it's not quite natural, nor particularly wanted - the trees, the snow, the air, it's there, insistent, driving its forces beyond all barriers.

Life, FN-2187 supposes, always finds its way. It puts a little flame of warmth inside his chest

They line up into the formation, eM looking them over before giving the order to march, to make sure they're in the perfect form. FN-2178 can feel the trepidation radiating off of her. This isn't crèche, where a lot is overlooked, often blamed on cadets being young and untrained. This is professional environment. They'll be observed and based on that observation, eM will be judged. And FN-2178 has heard of Captains not passing that judgment and disappearing without a trace. Losing eM like that is unthinkable. FN-2178 resolves to be on his best behaviour and watch out for others twice as much as he normally would, to make sure eM passes with flying colours.

Nova slides next to him in the brief chaos after they enter the base. They're all wearing helmets, of course, but FN-2178 would recognize her everywhere. It's something in her gait, perhaps, or the set of her shoulders, that is so familiar to FN-2178, as is her smell and breathing pattern. They shared bunks next to each other as long as FN-2178 can remember. When there were five and moving to junior dormitories, they were supposed to all swap places to discourage familial relationships, but FN-2178 and Nova managed to stay together (FN-2178 suspects eM helped somehow). The same thing happened last year, when they were switching to seniors quarters.

It also helps when Nova very briefly slides her palm against FN-2178’s, as she does every single time they come across each other during the day.They are seldom allowed to speak to each other, greetings when they meet in endless corridors are unthinkable. So FN-2178 and Nova invented their own secret method, long ago when she was still FN-2113 and brief touches were allowed, if frowned upon.

They’re allowed no longer, but FN-2187 and Nova keep stubbornly sneaking them anyway. It sends a thrill through FN-2187 every time they manage to break the small rule unnoticed, and shame follows that thrill closely, because how can FN-2187 betray the First Order so. Rules and discipline are the backbone of their First Order and surely it’s wrong beyond belief, unhealthy even, to feel the need to break them. To stand out from the line of faceless soldiers and have something that’s only _his._ FN-2187 resolves to be a better soldier, but every time ends up yearning for a simple contact from his friend, for that moment of kinship, and the cycle repeats itself.

They march to the mess hall first and have breakfast there. It’s quite an exciting affair, sitting at the places where the grown up Stormtroopers usually sit. FN-2187’s feet don’t touch the ground and he wants to swing them, but like outside when he wanted to run around, he quells the urge.

Then a tall officer in a full uniform comes in.

He exchanges few words with eM and then introduces himself to the children.

“Good day, cadets. I’m Admiral Calver and I will take you on your tour of the glorious Starkiller base now. Stand up and hold formation. Don’t touch anything and observe carefully, for this base is the pride of our great First Order.”

There’s a brief shuffling around as everyone tries to find their place in the formation as quickly as possible.

FN-2187 knows for sure he’s not the only one excited, he can feel the excitement of his comrades hovering around the room like a hot, heavy raincloud. eM indulges them, but the Admiral throws them a stern glance and it’s like someone flipped a switch, all signs of excitement, even the strange feeling of an impending storm when the air is buzzed with electricity, disappear.

FN-2187 doesn’t understand how his comrades can shut down their emotions like that, but he doesn’t think about it for long. He’s completely distracted - and charmed - by the Starkiller base.

The Admiral is right - the place is a state of an art. And they’ve only seen the living quarters, training halls and the hangar. The main circus is yet to be revealed.

Then the Admiral directs them downstairs to the underground level where is the prison block.

Most of the prison cells are empty, although everyone gives them attention that any First Order space demands. Then the Admiral stops and waits until everyone gathers around the one cell that is guarded - and quite heavily at that.

There is a man in the cell.

FN-2187 heard about war prisoners. He learned about how to deal with them should he encounter one in the future and how to make prisoners out of people who fight against the First Order. But he never saw one until now.

He was told that the people who should end in the capture are violent creatures, incapable of learning better ways of the First Order. The First Order is merciful and stands for goodness and justice and order and if there is a person fighting that order, resisting the teachings and creating war and violence, there is no other solution than put them in chains, away from the world so they can harm no one.

FN-2187 imagined that they are no more than murdering, destroying machines, fearsome and strong, twisted beyond recognition from the constant anger and fight coursing through their veins.

But the man behind the bars is nothing like that.

He is not threatening one bit. He is not particularly big and looks fragile, old. He _is_ old, FN-2187 realises, older than any human FN-2187 has ever seen before. His face is all wrinkled and crooked and his long hair and beard almost completely white. His posture is bent, everything about him thin and gentle like branches of the small trees outside, like FN-2187 could snap his wrists with a squeeze of a hand, break his knees with a kick.

At the back of his head, there is a small thought that this man must have been handsome once, tall and with broad shoulders, before the muscle disappeared and only jutting bones remained, his face long and angular, dark skin that is now sunken and sallow with both age and absence of sun, and even though his hair lost its colour, it’s still thick and strong and just about only thing that looks healthy. But he looks only broken and tiny now, as strong as a little bird.

But most important reason why FN-2187 thinks the chains and bars and row of guarding Stormtroopers are completely unnecessary is that the man is absolutely and unquestionably blind.

His eyes are dull, milky colour, the skin around them unhealthy and scarred over long healed wounds that must have taken the man’s sight. He looks unseeingly into the distance and FN-2187 thinks that even if they opened his prison cell, took down his chains, even if he had the strength to stand up and walk, he wouldn’t be able to find his way out of the complex.

About half of FN-2187’s companions must arrive to the same conclusion as him and it must be somehow visible, because the Admiral gives a little cough and says:

“Don’t be fooled by this prisoner’s look. He is much stronger than he seems and he fought tirelessly to destroy our great First Order with chaos and pain.”

At his words, the man lifts his eyes and looks straight at FN-2187. The intensity of his gaze is frightening and it takes all of FN-2187’s resolve to not step back and break the formation. For a moment, he isn’t sure the man can’t actually see him.

And he knows with absolute certainty that the Admiral is right. This man, this prisoner is _strong._ Terrifyingly, deadly strong, stronger than anything, anyone FN-2187 knows. Stronger than any weapon and their plastic uniforms, stronger than his entire battalion and eM and the Admiral and all the guards at the Starkiller base. Stronger than the Supreme Leader himself, and however traitorous thought that is, FN-2187 knows it’s true. The man is stronger than the darkness that surrounds FN-2187 at night when all lights are out and stronger than the pain in his stomach when time between meals stretches endlessly and stronger than the fear of being caught every time he and Nova touch hands.

He is definitely stronger than the bars and chains on him. He is like the life outside in the snow and earth and trees - he cannot be stopped or contained. And it scares FN-2187 and reassures him at the same time.

It’s just a moment and then the prisoner bows his head again and all that strength that’s in his eyes is hidden again.

“Children, Admiral?” he asks and his tone is as flat as any Stormtrooper officer’s, but there is something else there too, something cold and hateful that FN-2187 would never want to have directed at himself. “You steal children and then teach them to kill and call that peace? You deserve all the chaos and pain in the galaxy, Admiral.”

Deserve? That’s a curious word. FN-2187 doesn’t think he’s heard it before.

“Silence!” the Admiral shouts. “You will loose your righteousness after today!”

The man smirks.

“This way, cadets,” the Admiral says, marching out of the prison cells and is it just FN-2187 or does the Admiral really sound sort of... Embarrassed?

“The Force will never die. You can’t escape the Force!” the prisoner calls after the Admiral.

And that’s another curious word, FN-2187 thinks as they march out of the prison cells.

Instinctively, he knows the Force the prisoner was talking about is the kind spelled with a capital letter. But why? What is it, important enough to have big letters, to be threatening and impossible to escape, but not enough that the cadets would have learned about it? Aren’t they supposed to know about anything that could threaten the First Order and the Galaxy?

FN-2187 thinks about that, and he thinks about the other word the prisoner used earlier - deserve. Of course, FN-2187 knows what that means, technically, but he never heard anyone say that. How does one deserve something? Especially something as horrible as pain and chaos. FN-2187 doesn’t really know what chaos is either, but the First Order uses that word frequently, and fears it, so FN-2187 assumes it’s the opposite of structured, tidy First Order. Who decides about someone deserving things like pain or peace? Is it the mysterious Force?

Soon though, FN-2187’s thoughts are again consumed by the Starkiller base.

It is a sight to behold. The cadets are shown the inner workings of the base and FN-2187 can’t help but admire the perfect working of the crew who bounce off of each other like the wheels of a well oiled machine. They’re even taken to the command centre filled with officers in their shiny black uniforms. At the end, they’re shown the weapon Starkiller base hides in its belly.

“State of an art,” the Admiral tells them and there’s a hint of a pride in his voice. It’s a pride of the First Order and it’s glorious defence, so it’s allowed. “This is the most dangerous, deadly, perfect weapon the universe has ever seen. Practically impossible to destroy.”

_Practically_ , FN-2187 thinks, and he thinks, wasn’t the Deathstar also practically impossible to destroy? And yet the Rebels did indeed destroy it, with their cunning minds and treacherous methods and the biggest luck.

But isn’t it all it takes? The mind that’s not ordered and dangerous, but sharp still, and a lot of luck, and people who believe they’re right.

Or a man in the basement who has more strength in his little finger than the whole First Order and maybe even their super weapon combined.

FN-2187 shakes his head a little bit. His thoughts are more traitorous today than ever it seems, and all it needed was a bit of a fresh air. No wonder they don’t usually let cades to go outside.

Eventually the tour is ended.

“Before you return to your academy, there is one special surprise for you,” the Admiral tells them when they’re back at the mess hall all standing in front of him, backs straight and heads held high.

They follow him to a clearing in front of the base where what seems like most of the Starkiller personnel is already standing in the neat lines.

FN-2187 is excited at first, from being allowed outside again, in the cold, clear air and life buzzing all around him, even if all they do is march to the front of the formation and stand in front of the adult stormtroopers.

Then he realises what this is.

The moment he sees the prisoner from earlier being dragged outside in his chains, cold weight settles in the pit of his stomach and he knows.

This is an execution.

He should be excited that a traitor to the First Order will cease to exist today, the bringer of chaos and grief will be gone, but the only thing FN-2187 knows for sure is that a human life will be terminated in front of his eyes. A flame like the one he has in his heart, and Nova and eM, will be gone.

And with it… Something. An immense power, the… The Force. The Force will be chipped and cracked and changed forever, this man violently ripped from it by the good, just, right First Order.

FN-2187 squeezes his eyes shut tightly for a moment and, possibly for the first time ever, is glad for the mask that covers his face.

“You can’t stop the Force!” the man yells again as he’s walked to the center of the clearing. Walked, FN-2187 observes, not dragged or pushed or forced. He goes on his own will, and even if his eyes are unseeing (although he doesn’t stumble a single time, FN-2187 sees as well, doesn’t hesitate to take one step) he must know what’s coming, but he doesn’t fight or protest or panic.

He goes calmly, surely, and even if he shouts all the time while he walks, it’s just so his voice carries over the clearing to every Stormtrooper standing there. There is no anger or fear or sadness in his voice. His tone is calm and even and absolutely sure in his proclamations.

“You can’t and never will stop the Force! It’s everywhere - it surrounds us and penetrates us; it binds the galaxy together. You can kill all of us, but you will never kill the Force! It won’t go away with us and eventually it will bring you what you deserve!”

So it is the mysterious Force that grants people what they deserve and what they don’t, FN-2187 thinks duly, while the prisoner is marched at the spot just to the left of FN-2187 so everyone can see him. His wrists and ankles are bound and ten weapons are trained on him.

They’re afraid, so very afraid of him, this man that is as good as dead.

And yet he stands there proudly with head held high, while the Admiral reads the list of his offences. It’s long, terribly long, the crimes ranging from petty theft and propaganda to murder, against all the Empire, New Republic, and the First Order.

He must be one from the old Rebellion, FN-2187 thinks.

Suddenly, the man turns from where he was unseeingly staring down his nose and looks right at FN-2187. And there it is again, what FN-2187 knows to be impossible, but he could swear the blind man looks right into FN-2187's eyes, through the clouds in his eyes and the mask on FN-2187’s face, straight into his mind. FN-2187 feels his body trembling. And then the man smiles. Lightly, barely there, but he definitely does lift the corners of his mouth. FN-2187 is worried for a moment that someone will notice, but then he realises no one but him is actually looking at the prisoner. They’re all staring straight ahead, like they were taught and even the guards won’t look into the prisoner’s face. But FN-2187 somehow holds eye contact with the old man, despite all the odds - and for all FN-2187 cares, they could be the only two people on the planet right now. And with that, there comes a strange feeling FN-2187 haven’t quite felt before. It’s a bit like when Nova’s body warms him at night and bit like when eM smiles at him. It’s kind and it’s soft and it’s warm and all sorts of good things that FN-2187 doesn’t get to feel very often. But it’s also like when Phasma watches their training sometimes and when he goes to medical and they tut at him for growing too fast or too thin. It’s expectant and curious and a bit heavy.

It’s confusing, that’s what it is. It doesn’t feel bad, but it doesn’t feel entirely pleasant either.

Then FN-2187 realises it’s quiet. The Admiral finished his list and the firing squad raised their blasters. Everything is still and FN-2187 thinks many of his fellow Stormtroopers are not breathing. Even the hum of life quieted down.

Then the prisoner speaks.

“It’s alright,” he says in a strong voice that carries in the air, but he still looks only at FN-2187. “In the end, we all get what we deserve. But nothing dies with me. Death is the natural part of life. I will become one with the Force, and the fight will go on. For a long time, perhaps, for you longer than most. I promise you thousand of battles, but don’t be afraid. The Force is with you, too.”

His words ring inside FN-2187’s heart and they terrify him as much as they comfort him. Then the man breaks the eye contact and looks up again.

“May the Force be with you all.”

The sound of blaster fire almost drowns the last word and in front of FN-2187’s eyes the old man falls dead.

For a moment, FN-2187’s heart stops too. Everything in the universe stops right then. FN-2187 is absolutely frightened for a second, but then, true to the old man’s last words, the world starts flowing by again.

His Force didn’t save the old man, but then he didn’t really seem to want it to. And however traitorous it is, as FN-2187 is marched back into the barracks, carefully avoiding the sight of the dead body, he thinks the Force will truly keep the fight alive and that is the true victory.

 

When FN-2187 is nine years old, he learns about the Force.

He also learns that apparently people have to deserve certain things. That some people deserve good things to happen to them, and some people deserve bad things to happen to them. That some people are entirely undeserving, one way, or another.

As he grows, FN-2187 will make himself firmly believe he's the entirely undeserving kind.

In three years, he’s made to say goodbye to eM - except, of course, no such thing is allowed in the First Order. Twelve year old cadets are expected to march into a starship one day and never return to the creche, leave for their full training, so they can be of service to the Order when they’re of age. They’re not told where they’re going. They’re not told they won’t be returning. They don’t take anything with them and they don’t salute to their commanders. There’s no ceremony, no party. They smoothly transition from one part of their lives into another without any fuss. There’s no reason for any fuss, after all. The training gets harder, but everything else stays the same.

Except FN-2187 will never see eM again.

She knows a day before they leave and sneaks into the sleep quarters after midnight, waking up FN-2187 and Nova.

“You’re leaving in the morning, my little soldiers,” she says.

“Leaving where?” FN-2187 asks stupidly, rubbing his tired eyes. Nova jabs him with her sharp elbow and Finn wakes up a little more and realises this is it. They all know that they came to age when most cadets leave for full training. They were expecting the command to come any day, most of the Second Battalion excited. FN-2187 isn’t. He’s scared and alone. He doesn’t like not knowing what will come next and he definitely doesn’t like the notion of never seeing eM again.

“Be brave, my little soldiers,” eM tells them and hugs them both at once, squeezing them a little bit too tight. “Be brave and be good and stay together.”

This isn’t what eM should be telling them. FN-2187 frowns into her shoulder - he knows eM isn’t quite like the other MTs, but she never talked to them this openly before. First Order has no use for bravery or goodness - to be honest, FN-2187 doesn’t either. He wants to ask eM to give them some real advice, some idea of what might await them, so he can prepare, but eM stands up quickly, shoving them back to beds.

“I have to go. Stay together,” she says again, the only bit of advice that FN-2187 could actually use and disappears behind the door. The officer checking the beds comes just after he and Nova crawled back into their beds and FN-2187 pretends to be asleep while trying not to cry, because now eM is gone it hits him, that he’ll never see her again and he didn’t properly commit to memory how her hug felt and how she smelled, instead thinking about usefulness of her advices.

At least he remembers very well how she sounded, her voice hushed and familiar, smooth, deep and warm like the fire of life FN-2187 has felt on Starkiller so long ago - _stay together_.

He doesn’t see eM again and they don’t stay together.

The very first night aboard Finalizer they’re sorted into squads of four and FN-2187 and Nova are separated. From that day on, for the longest time everything FN-2187 does - eating, sleeping, showering, learning, training - is accompanied by the three boys he barely knew before and who shoot him hostile (Nines) and suspicious (Zeroes) and scared (Slip) looks when they’re put together. He barely sees Nova for the next couple of months, except at night, because FN Corps Second Battalion still share sleeping quarters even aboard the Star Destroyer. Their beds are too far from each other though, and after couple of weeks FN-2187 stops creeping into Nova’s bed at night, when Nines and Zeroes make it very clear they don’t like that behaviour and they will be reporting it if FN-2187 continues. Instead Nova tries to come to him, and FN-2187 doesn’t outright refuse her, but he doesn’t welcome her either, and she’s obviously confused and hurt, but eventually she stops trying.

FN-2187 wants very much to just fit in.

He does everything perfectly, tries his best to be a model soldier - tries his best not to be brave or good. It all seems to be pointless, because Zeroes and Nines still don’t like him. Slip might, but Finn’s pretty sure it’s only because he always goes easy on him during sparring and pokes his arm when he nods off in class. He can’t make himself stop. Slip is a gangly kid, a head shorter than any other boy in the Corps. Finn knows the officers are watching Slip and if he doesn’t help him at least a little bit, they’ll throw him out of the airlock soon. Nova, on the other hand, is still being Nova. She helps those who lag behind, holds hand of those who have nightmares, shares her rations with boys rapidly growing and constantly hungry. FN-2187 sees the officers giving Nova an eye and he tries to warn her, but Nova doesn’t listen and one night, they come for her. She screams and cries, and at the very end, calls FN-2187’s number, but he doesn’t answer. He lies in his bed and trembles and, later, cries too.

He cries the next night, and the one after that. All his tears don’t bring Nova back and eventually, he stops.

He doesn’t stop helping out Slip, though. And when someone wakes up in the middle of the night crying and Nova isn’t there to help them, FN-2187 sneaks to their bed and holds their hand instead. When FN-2478 gets hurt at the gym and medics refuse to treat something as minor as sprained wrist, FN-2187 steals a bandage and ties it around FN-2478’s hand.

Captain Phasma looks at him from behind her mask more often than she looks at the others. When he helps Slip adjust his stance at the fighting range, her head gives a miniscule shake. When Finn breaks all the records at a sim, she nods tiny bit. It balances itself out.

FN-2478 tells on him.

He goes to Phasma and talks about the stolen bandage and FN-2187’s help. FN-2187 gets punished for the first time - he’s not allowed to drink, sleep or eat for twenty four hours. He has to stand in the mess hall, so at the meal times everyone can see him and he’s not allowed to move. After the twenty four hours run out, they send him straight back to the training. Although he gets to have lunch and dinner, he’s half delirious at the end of the day. He’s fourteen years old.

After that, FN-2187 is very careful whose hand he holds. He doesn’t stop, though.

He didn’t do the only thing eM wanted him to - he didn’t stay with Nova. So he will stay strong for her instead.

He will try to be brave. And good. Whatever passes for bravery or goodness at the First Order.

Years and people and Galaxy pass by. They rarely go planetside and never stop moving. There are flight simulations and sparring, weapon training and studying, survival training and firing range. They teach their bodies to function without sleep or food. The twenty four hours fourteen years old FN-2187 spent with growling stomach and eyes drooping from exhaustion become a distant memory. Nova and eM become a memory, too. Zeroes and Nines still don’t like him. FN-2187 is beginning to suspect Slip doesn’t like him much either.

Years pass by and aboard the Finalizer, nothing changes. It stays white, sterile, impersonal. Detached from FN-2187 as much as his fellow soldiers are detached from him and each other, as if separated by a thin layer of plastic with First Order insignia on it. And FN-2187 looks at the stars behind the transparisteel and thinks, who am I? Thinks, I'm a Stormtrooper.

Thinks, Stormtroopers don't deserve things, good or bad. Stormtroopers simply exist.

FN-2187 doesn't think about whether it's fair. No one taught him about fairness, after all. Only about things people deserve and things people don't. He was also taught he's not people.

For the first time, FN-2187 is okay with that. He makes himself okay with that, at the very least.

But apparently he's wrong and maybe he deserves things, good and bad, all the things, except peace, because shortly after, everything changes.

 

* * *

 

When Finn thinks back about the time between the attack on village on Jakku and the mission on Starkiller, it seems like a very long, exhausting dream. The colours are muted in his memories, the sounds hollow, single events stand out randomly - meeting Rey, seeing BB-8, Maz’s castle on Takodana towering above him, but a lot of unimportant things, too. The tiny bit of rust in the gunners turret in Falcon. Chewbacca’s fur coarse against Finn’s hand. The first breath of air on D’Qar, humid, warm, like nothing else Finn has felt before.

More than he's able to picture the events, he's able to _feel_ them.

Most of it is just a jumble of fear and anger and grief, but there are things standing out like waves in the ocean. There's the breathless joy of sitting in the cockpit of the TIE fighter with Poe. The devastation of losing the pilot. The thrill of Millennium Falcon and Rey’s flying. The instant sense of companionship they shared briefly. The absolute terror when he's been dragged away by the rathar. The surety that he's going to die and the relief when Rey saves him. The strange sense of kinship with Han Solo. The adrenaline of a battle on Takodana and the despair when Rey’s taken from him, covering everything that happened after like a thick blanket, only briefly lifted on the tarmac of Resistance base when he sees Poe again, Poe Dameron being alive, hugging him, and that hug is pure comfort and safety and hope, relief tasting like a sweet syrup in his mouth. And then there's the fear again, of possibly going to his death, but also resolve, and courage. The absolution of a decision made and knowledge of the rightness of that decision.

It seems to Finn, like he felt not only himself, but everyone around him, his senses impossibly stretched - Poe’s hope and trust, Rey’s elation and worry. And the terror and pain of people in Hosnian system all the way from the core worlds.

It's a strange dream, confusing and potent, and Finn only wakes up when they land on Starkiller. It smells exactly like Finn remembers from his first visit when he was nine, and it seems to welcome Finn, embrace him in its life. He thinks he'll soon might be the one who murders it all.

From then, his memories are clean, almost clinical all the way until Kylo Ren’s lightsaber pierces the flesh on his back. Finn’s… Glad, partly. He could do without all the high-resolution details of Han Solo’s death, but he's also grateful he doesn't quite remember how that felt. He knows it pained him, and he knows he was scared when Rey got hurt and scared more yet, when he fought Kylo Ren, but it's only an echo of feelings.

He remembers very well, however, what he thought laying in the snow in the split second before unconsciousness claimed him. It was this:

The snow is so very cold.

I failed Rey.

But I didn't fail Poe. And the General and the Resistance. Maybe they'll make it to save Rey.

He thinks, for the first time ever, did I really deserve this?

But then he remembers past few days, the running, the flying, Han Solo calling him kid, BB-8’s lighter thumbs-up, the fresh, lovely air of Takodana dancing in his lungs. Rey’s hand in his. Poe’s arms around him.

His name.

And he thinks, yes, I deserved _this,_ and maybe so much more, who knows now. He will never find out, but it's alright. He can feel that electric, exhilarating life thrumming around him and he's so glad he got a chance to taste it, if only for a little bit. And if this is the price he has to pay, so be it.

When his eyes close, Finn is calm. He has no regrets.

 

* * *

 

Finn wakes up.

This is… Unexpected.

His memories are foggy, his vision blurry and the air smells nothing like the recycled air on Finalizer. Finn has no idea where he is, or what has landed him in this bed in this unknown place. His last clear memory is of Slip, shouting in his ear:

“Eighty-seven, we're finally getting a proper assignment!”

Two things Finn knows for a fact, though:

He is no longer FN-2187.

And he didn't expect to be alive.

He doesn’t have time to do much more than blink, not to mention starting to take stock of the situation and try to figure out where he is and how did he come to be there, when a machine starts beeping somewhere to his left, not very loud, but insistent. He turn his head to see where is the sound coming from, and very, _very_ familiar beeps and boops join in. A flash of orange and white comes to Finn’s vision and with that, everything comes flooding back - most importantly the pain in his back, as if remembering the wound and what caused it made Finn’s brain realise that, yes, after a stunt like that, he _should_ be hurting. And following the wave of pain comes a tsunami of panic, because Rey, and the pilots, and Starkiller, and _Finn has no idea what happened._

But before he can find out, his body gives up and his eyes flutter closed.

Finn _needs_ to know what happened, if Rey is alright and safe, but the darkness swallows him whole and that’s that.

 

* * *

 

Later, Finn will remember his first awakening with startling clarity, but the next forty-eight hours he spends dozing on and off, as Poe tells him, are all a blur.

Probably for the best, as (Poe also tells him) he wakes up several times screaming in pain or fear until the medics figure out the right painkillers amount to keep him comfortable, and spends the rest in restless, feverish sleep, moving and wincing in discomfort.

All the pain eludes Finn, though. What he remembers are fragments of voices and footsteps. He remembers being touched softly, gently, like never before. He thinks he remembers BB-8 beeping in the background and a male voice answering him quietly.

What he remembers most is a presence that seems to be made of everything that is warm and soft by his side. It’s like a sip of cool water on a hot day, like smell of pine trees, like laugh and hugs, like shoes that are worn soft and comfortable. It’s like life itself and it’s endlessly comforting.

That’s probably the fever talking.

Finn remembers this and a warm pressure on his hand and a soft voice saying his name every now and then, and all of this assures him, calms him, tethers him to a reality that seems to be safe after all. When Finn wakes again, there’s no panic.

This time, the first thing he sees is Poe Dameron’s unshaved face with eyes tired, but full of infinite, absolute kindness Finn has never experienced until recently.

“Finn? Buddy? Are you with me?”

It sounds like Poe asked this question many times and he ran out of any real expectations for answer good few hours ago, but there’s still patience and undercurrent of hope in his tone.

Finn only nods, looking for his voice, and Poe’s whole face comes alive, lit by an enormous grin.

There are no gaps in Finn’s memory now. He knows exactly what happened up to his fall in the snow, back burning like a surface of a lava planet. But something must have happened between then and now, because now he’s laying in a bed, the pain in his back barely there, more of a memory, a notion of something that should be than actual feeling. And so he knows exactly what to ask.

“Where is Rey?” is most important on his list, so that’s his first question, and it’s a good thing, because the rest is lost in a violent, dry cough.

“Take it easy,” Poe says, helping him to drink some water. It’s a blessing for Finn’s throat.

Poe puts the cup down and while Finn struggles to make his vocal cords work, he answers all the questions in Finn’s head without prompting.

“Rey’s fine. She’s not here right now, but I promise she’s absolutely fine and she’ll come back soon. We’re on D’Qar. Everything’s good, we blew up Starkiller just as we planned and First Order’s been quiet ever since. Kylo Ren got you good, but you bought Rey the time she needed to recover and she kicked his ass and brought you back here with Chewie. You’ve been asleep for over a week, but the doctors expect you’ll make full recovery now that you’re awake. Happy to finally officially welcome you to Torrent Base! That’s what we call this place. I don’t think anyone told you before,” Poe ticks off on his fingers. “Let’s see… That should be all. The short version, anyway. Except you being a great hero. Proper big deal now!”

Finn has a distinct feeling Poe has rehearsed this and now he’s grinning down at Finn brilliantly, almost like a child who expects praise. Finn smiles back, relieved, pleased even, despite what sounds like Poe mocking him, but it also sounds way too friendly and sweet for it to be malicious, and Poe’s grin stretches even wider - who knew that was possible - as if that's all the praise he needed.

“You have no idea how glad I am to see that smile,” Poe tells him earnestly and Finn has no clue what to do with that. What does he say to something this open and sincere, how can anyone keep his heart out and vulnerable like this? But Poe Dameron manages and that’s what makes him so special and for a moment, Finn is fiercely glad he got him off the Finalizer and it feels like there is a bright light in his chest, illuminating his swelling heart. But universe is not all light and happiness.

“Han Solo?” he asks, his voice a whispering croak he doesn’t recognise, but there’s no coughing fit, so it’ll do.

Poe’s face darkens an inch.

“Well… You probably know better than I what happened…”

And Finn does. Finn now knows things he never thought he could learn, never wanted to. He knows that Leia Organa is Kylo Ren’s mother, and isn’t that ironic. Almost funny, really. He knows Kylo Ren used to be a little boy named Ben, with two loving parents, and now that boy is fatherless and consumed by darkness. He knows what a face of a murderer looks like. But then, he supposes he always knew. He grew up surrounded by murderers. He just never realised. But now he also knows what sound a human soul (thousands, millions of souls) makes just moments before it disappears forever. It puts a lot of things into perspective.

“What about… Everyone else?” he asks, voice now gaining its usual shape.

Poe plays with Finn’s blanket. He stalls for time, Finn knows, not having rehearsed this part of the conversation.

“There were losses,” he says finally, eyes downcast, voice soft. “It was expected, but.. You know. One keeps hoping it’ll only be the bad guys this time, right?” Poe looks up with a smile that is clearly forced even to Finn, who is untrained in the art of facial expressions. “I’ll call the doc for you, yeah? Should’ve done that the first thing!”

Poe gets up quickly, winking.

“Be right back! No BB-8, you stay. Comm me if Finn needs anything!”

And with that Poe is gone behind the curtain Finn assumes separates his bed from the rest of the room.

Finn wants to say, no, stay with me, Poe, but he doesn’t know if he’s allowed. What claim does he have on Poe, anyway? They’ve known each other for two weeks, tops, and ninety percent of that time they spend thinking each other dead, or Finn lying asleep in a bed. It’s not like they’re friends.

Besides, considering how Poe’s face closed off, how he said “the bad guys”, Finn’s real question wouldn’t probably fly well.

What he really meant was:  
“What about everyone on the exploding base? How many escape pods did you see?”

There were over six thousand Stormtroopers stationed on Starkiller - some of them, Finn knows, barely older than seventeen. Plus officers and civilian personnel. Many of these people were just like Finn - children who never knew home other than cold, impersonal starships and Starkiller with its metallic tang in the air, who never knew there was a choice to be made. Finn knows the officers wouldn’t spare thought to those people, wouldn’t spend time and pod space to evacuate them in time. What Finn really meant was:

“Am _I_ a murderer?”

Because he can’t excuse himself with a higher purpose. With cause larger than life. With the Light side of the Force whispering to him what needed to be done. Not even with brainwashing and mindless listening to orders.

No. Finn went there to save Rey and now Han Solo is dead, and Poe’s pilots are dead and countless of Finn’s former comrades are dead, and Finn?

Finn gets to be called hero for that. A proper big deal.

A proper mess would be more fitting.

He also gets a doctor whose name is Kalonia, who seems to be genuinely caring for his wellbeing. She too welcomes him to Torrent Base, and pats his hand, feels his forehead with gentle palm and asks him lot of questions, mostly about pain.

And then Poe comes back, all smiles and jokes again, and Finn gets a dinner that is some sort of weak porridge and it’s the best thing Finn’s tasted except food at Maz’s cantina, despite Poe pronouncing it disgusting. And then Finn gets to watch Kalonia announce Poe rude and unappreciative and feign a swipe at Poe’s shoulder, and Poe lifting his hands in mock surrender and Finn has never seen anything like this - anything so light and easy and affectionate and Poe and Kalonia don’t look like there’s anything special to it, like it’s a gift.

Thorough all of that Finn feels the strangest mixture of joy and gratefulness and excitement, and crushing grief and guilt and despair.

There’s a strange feeling nesting in his chest, as if someone neatly rolled all the warmth on D’Qar into a small ball and instead of it being dense and heavy, it floats and bounces inside of Finn. It tickles and it’s not quite uncomfortable, and one minute it’s pleasantly warming him to the tips of his fingers and the next it’s burning almost too hot.

After a lifetime of being told not to feel anything at all, he feels too small for all of it, like his skin is being stretched beyond endurance and it’s more tiring than any lightsaber wound could ever be. He kind of wants to be left alone to curl on his side and have time to sort through all of that.

“See that, buddy? No respect for a commander around here!” Poe jokes.

“Respect isn’t given, it’s earned,” Kalonia shots back with a smirk, only half joking. “You, young man, have so far only earned my pity.“

Finn stays quiet. Firstly, he doesn’t think he could turn on his side, much less curl without his back punishing him horribly. Secondly, he has no idea where he stands with the Resistance and if he’s allowed to make requests. But mostly, because as much as he wanted to disappear to Outer Rim, he suddenly wants fiercely to stay with the Resistance, to belong here and joke and laugh and bask in Poe’s smile. So he smiles and does his best to appear compliant and non-threatening.

Who knows what he truly deserves after everything, but Finn knows what he wants.

Later, when the excitement of the day dies down, when Poe is finally persuaded to leave and have some sleep, double and triple assured that Finn has everything he needs, after doctor Kalonia, who is friendly and gentle and, above everything else, very thorough,checks him over the last time, tells him to call if he needs anything and retires to her little office for the night shift, after the droids power down and night descends on D’Qar and the base falls silent and dark in its sleep, only then Finn thinks: How inconvenient.

He's glad to be alive, of course he's glad to be alive. It's just, at the time, dying seemed to solve lot of problems for him. Like whether to fight or run. What is the actual right thing to do. If he's supposed to do the right things, or the safe things? How to be a friend. How to be a person. That all gave way to an eternal darkness and Finn was a bit disappointed not to see the full potential of who he might become, but also a tiny bit relieved that after a lifetime of becoming a soldier he didn't want to be, he doesn't have to live through the process of becoming something new.

Mostly he was just alright, in peace with dying.

Instead, he wakes up in the Resistance medbay, with a painful-like-hell slash down his back that prevents him from sitting up, never mind running away, a freshly made mass murderer that they call hero without realising they've got a traitor in their midst, not knowing how to talk to people without standing on the razor-sharp edge of danger.

Now what?

 

* * *

 

It takes three days for Finn to get completely, utterly bored.

Never in his life did he go without some sort of task for more than few minutes with the exception of the six hours of sleep every day. Now though, he is not even allowed to leave his bed, not that he thinks he could. He can barely stand sitting up for an hour at the time, no matter how boring laying on his back is. Poe spends a lot of time sitting with him, amusing him with stories and jokes, but he can never stay for too long, the Resistance demanding his attention. He often leaves BB-8 behind, and Finn is grateful, but because he can’t understand binary, BB-8 doesn’t help with the boredom. But at least he is not alone. Because when both Poe and BB-8 are gone and Kalonia or her assistant Thule (who is a Twi'lek and probably doesn’t like Finn much because of Finn’s staring, but he can’t help it, _would you look at those head-tails_ , Finn has never seen anything like that) are not present for check-ups, the only thing he has for company are his thoughts and those are not happy.

Not happy at all.

When Finn isn’t worrying about his future, he agonises over his past, both distant and recent.

Finn never really thought much about his childhood. It was what it was, and even though he had a vague notion that elsewhere children grew up differently, and as he got older he might have thought a few times there were probably few things wrong with his life, but with no other reference, he couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong.

All it takes is three days lying in a med-bay on Resistance’s Torrent Base and listening to Poe recounting his childhood, he realises there were more than few things wrong.

In fact, by Resistance standards, by Poe’s standards, he had no childhood.

He lived in an abusive dictatorship.

And he can tell that just from the few puzzle pieces Poe has offered, because he is afraid of asking for more, afraid of drawing attention to all that’s wrong with him, afraid to mention the First Order, which is such a clear enemy to Poe.

Small part of him is afraid that having the full picture will be too much to handle.

The biggest part of him is afraid that when Poe sees how broken, how _wrong_ Finn is, he will no longer come and tell him stories and jokes and let BB-8 stay with him and sing to him its strange, whistling songs.

On a third day, General Leia Organa comes visit Finn.

He’s sitting in his bed propped by half dozen pillows, curiously poking into that warm light inside of him that refuses to leave. It stabilised somewhat, only occasionally jumping up and down almost as if it was excited, and Finn is beginning to think he should maybe mention it to Kalonia. It seems like it could be a symptom of something.

And then the General walks in - Finn knows it’s her before she properly enters the room.

There’s tightly coiled fury and pain following her that her son carries as well. But while Kylo Ren’s sits on his shoulders and weighs him down, whispers horrible things into his ear in the Supreme Leader’s voice and then lashes out unexpectedly and destroys its nearest target with a hiss of a broken lightsaber, General Organa’s is controlled. Quiet and poised, it walks behind her like a beast on soft paws, ready to strike if the General wishes so, but otherwise calm.

“Hello, Finn,” the General says and the beast purrs instead of hissing. “May I sit?”

Finn nods and the General pulls up a chair that Poe left behind when he left after breakfast. She sits and the beast curls up at her feet.

“How are you doing, Finn?” she asks.

Finn shrugs and picks on the blanket. He isn’t quite sure how to talk to the General. It was so easy when they planned mission to Starkiller, Finn remembers - but then there was Poe at his side and Rey in danger and all in all it was question of life and death. Now it’s so quiet Finn can hear the best breathing at General’s feet. Finn knows the General wouldn’t unleash it on him, because where her pain and fury are at her feet, her sorrow and wisdom and kindness lie about her shoulders like a cloak, but still. The only question between them now is of death. Of death of thousands of beings, good and evil and everything in-between that the General surely felt if Finn did, of Han Solo that Finn saw and didn’t stop, and of Ben Solo, for Finn is absolutely certain the boy Leia Organa called her son was gone, and it probably happened ages ago, but Finn is the one who witnessed it fully, who now bears a mark of it on his back.

“I’m sorry!” he blurts out in the end.

Tears are suddenly in his eyes, hot and heavy, spilling over and rolling down his cheeks, burning.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, and wants to add: I’m sorry I wasn’t enough to save your husband.

“I’m sorry,” he says and wants to add: I’m sorry I wasn’t enough to kill the monster that consumed your son.

“I’m sorry,” he says and wants to add: I’m sorry I served your enemy and didn’t find you sooner, didn’t tell you all their secret and didn’t stop the destroying of Hosnian System.

“I’m sorry,” he says and wants to add: I’m sorry for growing up without a heart and killing thousands of people not to save your Resistance, but my only friend.

He doesn’t say any of that, only keeps on apologising, but the General lays a gentle hand on his arm and says:

“I know.”

And she lets him cry and cry and cry.

Finn’s tears dry after a while. He wipes his cheeks, sniffs and gives a last, weak:

“Sorry, General.”

“It’s alright, Finn,” she says and pats his arm before withdrawing her hand. “You should know I don’t blame you for anything - none of this is your fault.”

Finn doesn’t know what to say to that and she smiles sadly.

“But you will blame yourself nevertheless, for a long time. I know that feeling.”

That, of all things, makes Finn feel better. It’s a validation of his feelings. They’re good and right and the General feels them too. Finn might be a real human after all.

He nods and the General's smile is more genuine.

“It’s been a long time since someone really needed my advice,” she murmurs and then she straightens her back and steadies her gaze and Finn knows now they’re down to the business.

“How’s your back?” she asks.

“It’s good, ma’am,” Finn says, despite it being anything but. “The doctor says I might starts walking in few days. I expect of myself to be able to serve you in a matter of weeks.”

Finn privately thinks that might be a stretch, that Kalonia lies when she says he can walk in few days to make him feel better, but he also thinks he can push himself. It would be far from the first time to work through his pain. And he knows that the Resistance doesn’t get rid of soldiers that are out of commission long term, but he also knows that even they can’t be so kind to offer resources and care to an useless being for longer than few weeks.

It apparently isn’t quite the right thing to say.

“Oh, Finn,” the General sighs and she deflates again, her hand back on Finn’s arm. “That’s not what I meant. I talked to doctor Kalonia and she expects your recovery to take much longer than couple of weeks, and that’s alright. No one will make you do anything until Kalonia gives you a green light and until you absolutely feel up for it.”

Finn knows he’s being pitied, and once again feels small and incomplete compared to these people who lived their whole lives as they should and now know all the rules. He also feels lost and useless, as he did for the past three days. He doesn’t just think he owes the Resistance something - he _wants_ to get out of the bed and help, but he isn’t sure how to explain that to the General so he only nods in what he hopes is a grateful manner.

The General is obviously satisfied, because she withdraws her hand again and continues.

“I wanted to officially thank you for your involvement in destroying the Starkiller base. We wouldn’t be more than few speckles of dust if it wasn’t for you. The Force must have sent you just in time,” the General smiles and Finn smiles back, although he feels like anything but smiling.

He remembers being nine and learning about the Force from a mouth of a man long dead. About the invisible power that surrounds everyone, that is endless and kind as much as it is cruel. He agrees with the General that it very well might have been the Force that had sent him. Saving thousands of people only to kill thousands of others - that would be the Force that Finn's generals were so afraid of. Bringing joy as well as suffering. And there is Leia Organa right in front of him, the embodiment of the double edged sword Finn wielded this time. The General whose army was saved. The mother and wife whose family was lost.

“As I said, we don’t expect anything from you. Rey told me you were heading to the Outer Rim before, and we would gladly assist you if that’s where you choose to go after you’re healed. But if you decide to stay with us, we would be double glad to have you. Your experience could be detrimental to winning this war.”

General Organa’s gaze is piercing on him and she is more of a General than a grieving woman in that moment. Finn is just a little bit of human and more of an asset. She would almost remind him of Phasma or Hux, if there wasn’t the choice she was offering him. The General has her own goals, of course, but she would never forget the part where he is a human being and not a tool in her hand, unless he willingly chooses and keeps choosing to be so. And that, more than anything, cements the decision that has been brewing in Finn for the past three days while Poe sat next to his bed and regarded him with stories and friendship.

“I would like to stay, ma’am,” he says.

The General smiles, wide and genuine.

“Then you’ll stay,” she says simply.

And that’s it. Finn just joined the Resistance.

“There’s more we’ll need to discuss, but we leave that until you’re out of here,” she says and stands up. “If I need anything, I’ll have Poe tell you.”

“General…” Finn starts but doesn’t quite know how to finish.

He already apologised. And he has a feeling he should tell the General how he betrayed one army already and maybe shouldn’t be trusted so readily. And how he isn’t a complete person like everyone else and he might become a hindrance rather than an asset soon. But then the General could change her opinion and Finn doesn’t know where else to go if he isn’t allowed to stay with the Resistance after all. And how he killed a planet that was alive, that spoke to him, once, that had a grave of a man that could perhaps wield the Force somewhere on it and that he didn’t do it for the better Galaxy, or the Resistance, or her, or even Poe. Maybe not even Rey. He did it because he was so scared of being alone that suddenly pushing the trigger that was so difficult on Jakku was like taking a breath. But that could not only get him thrown out of the Resistance, that might get him treated like a criminal and Finn doesn’t want that at all. He wants Kalonia continue being kind to him and Poe sit at his bedside. He wants to wait here for Rey. He wants to help, even, and this time truly because it’s a right thing to do, not because he has goals he needs to reach.

The General looks at him and then reaches for his shoulder again.

“I know,” she says quietly and very, very seriously, and squeezes.

And she does. Finn looks in her eyes, hears the beast of her own pain and grief and guilt in it. She does know.

“I know how hard it is. And I would like to tell you it becomes easier, but it doesn’t. It’s you who becomes less and less human until you stop feeling it. And I hope to the all galaxies that you never do stop feeling it. You’re a good man, Finn. Don’t let yourself to be convinced otherwise, even if it’s your own heart telling you that. Being selfish, scared, guilty, that isn’t evil. Being human isn’t evil. Being inhuman is.”

The General gives him one last smile and leaves.

“I’ll send Thule in a minute,” she says in the doorway. “See you later, Finn.”

And Finn quickly wipes the tears that are on his cheeks again, before the Twi’lek comes in.

“The General requested some tests for you, to fill in your paperwork. Apparently our little Stormtrooper is joining the Resistance,” Thule says and Finn is sure that is disdain in his voice, but that doesn’t stop him from staring at the alien as Thule pokes and proes him with various instruments.

“Take a holo, why don’t you, it’ll last longer,” the Twi’lek grumbles finally.

Even though Thule doesn’t sound too happy at the idea, it’s still absolutely brilliant.

“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Finn says enthusiastically. “Would you come in for a minute when Poe is here so BB-8 can take the holo for me?”

Thule stops whatever he’s doing and just stares at Finn.

“Wait… What?” he asks, very obviously out of sorts. That unsettles Finn, too. In his time knowing Thule he never saw him looking anything but completely assured. Admittedly, he doesn’t know the man for long, but he couldn’t even fathom how this expression would look on his pale yellow face.

“You said I could take a picture…” Finn says quietly, completely out of the loop.

Thule glares at him for a moment and then chuckles.

“It’s just a saying,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words this time. If anything he still looks a bit confused.

Thule resumes his work and Finn makes sure he’s looking anywhere but at him this time. He’s slowly grasping that the picture idea wasn’t Thule being nice to Finn for the first time, but rather his way of telling him to stop ogling him.

Finn can understand and respect that.

“How old are you?” Thule breaks the silence again when he moves from Finn’s body to his pad, undoubtedly writing down whatever his instruments told him about Finn.

“Twenty three,” Finn says without a doubt.

That was the number they put in his file couple of months ago, when he had his yearly medical at the First Order. He wouldn’t even dream, back then, that the next time he thinks of it he’ll be sitting in a medbay of who he then believed to be his utmost enemy and it will be a non-human asking that question.

“Twenty three and…?”

Finn just stares, not understanding.

“I need something more concrete,” Thule says, impatient. “Twenty-three and how many months? Days?”

Finn still doesn’t know the answer.

“When is your birthday?”

“I don’t know,” Finn says.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Thule lowers his pad at that and frowns. The expression is fascinating on his face without eyebrows. Finn valiantly turns his eyes elsewhere.

“We didn’t have birthday in the First Order,” in fact, until Poe mentioned the celebration in one of his stories few days prior, Finn didn’t even know something like birthdays existed. “Each battalion was composed of people of approximately the same age and we all had a medical once a year and that’s when they upgraded our age a year up. For everyone at once. They never told us the day of our birth. As far as the First Order was concerned, the day we entered was the day of our birth.”

Thule stares at him. And stares. And stares. And stares a bit more.

Considering how much he disliked being stared at himself, Finn thinks it’s a bit rude.

“You never had a birthday?” he asks finally and his voice sounds nothing like ever before when he spoke to Finn.

“I didn’t have a name before Poe gave me one,” Finn says, trying to be nonchalant. He thought it was something everyone on the base would know by now. He can’t quite keep the bitterness out of his tone when he continues. “I was a number.”

“Okay,” Thule says, still staring, his eyes big and round. “Okay. I can work with twenty three.”

“Thank you,” Finn says for a lack of better response and judging from Thule’s eyes that quickly flick to him and are even wider, it’s not a correct one.

Thule quickly finishes jutting down his notes and turns to leave. Similar to the General, he stops in a doorway and turns back to Finn.

“Finn,” he says quietly, and it’s the first time he addressed Finn by his name. “Did you ever see a Twi’lek before you met me?”

Finn shakes his head and Thule nods in response and disappears in the corridor.

Three days later, Finn has his first birthday.

He doesn’t expect a thing when in the middle of his sleepy afternoon, Poe bursts in accompanied by BB-8, of course, but also two pilots Finn remembers from the attack on Starkiller, Thule, Kalonia, and a plump woman with purple hair in a tight knot carrying something that looks like a stack of mud a on plate.

“Happy birthday, buddy!” Poe laughs.

Finn is confused, but not for long.

Turns out the pile of mud is a chocolate cake, which, according to Poe, is “the most birthday cake you can get” and two pilots are Jessika Pava and Snap Wexley, Poe’s friends who upon hearing Finn has never had a birthday jumped on a chance to give him one. The purple-haired woman is named Trisha and she’s one of the cooks who baked the cake for him and then wormed her way into an impromptu celebration as well.

Of all the things that Finn missed he regrets missing birthday perhaps the least, but everyone seems so excited, so Finn celebrates.

Turns out, birthdays are great.

As Finn has no experiences, he has to believe Poe that they do everything people do on their birthdays. And even if they don’t, it’s still pretty great.

First he has to properly meet Jessika and Snap, which isn’t part of birthdays. But Jessika pushes Poe out of the way and towers over Finn.

“Call me Jess,” the girl extends her arm to him confidently and Finn obediently shakes.

“Hello, Jess. I’m Finn,” he says.

“I know,” she smirks. “And this is Snap,” she points at the bearded guy next to her that Finn remembers from the control room when they were planning attack on Starkiller. He seemed as confident as Jess is now back then, completely in control of himself and his surroundings. Now he shuffles awkwardly towards Finn’s bed and says quietly:

“My name is actually Temmin…”

“Snap!” Poe and Jess exclaim together and push Snap away before he has a chance to shake Finn’s hand. He rolls his eyes at Finn behind Jess and Poe’s back instead while they cackle as if that was the best jokes in the world. He also offers Finn a kind smile and Finn immediately likes him.

Then they all sing Finn a silly song and put candles in the cake before eating it.

“Blow them Finn and wish for something,” Poe says.

Everyone is crowded around his bed and smiling at him. Jess is curled up next to his shoulder, her face lit by the candlelight and joy both, her body warm where it touches Finn’s. The contact with Poe at his hip where Poe is sitting is positively burning. Doctor Kalonia has her hands ready to clap under her chin like a little girl. Even Thule is smiling at Finn, his lekku moving gently as if there was a constant, happy breeze around them.

Finn squeezes his eyes, blows, and wishes he could have birthday every day.

The cake is absolutely delicious. Kalonia frowns a little and doesn’t allow Finn have more than one slice.

“Even that is too much for your diet,” she grumbles.

“The privileges of a birthday boy,” Thule smirks. “If he dies, we’ll never celebrate his birthday again so he might as well enjoy this one.”

Snap and Jess laugh, Trisha looks scandalised and Kalonia slaps Thule’s arm good-naturedly. Poe’s face looks torn between laugh and pain. Finn laughs freely.

Snap also doesn’t eat cake.

“D’you wanna cake, Snap?” Jess drawls, putting a plateful right under Snap’s nose and Snap scrunches his face.

Poe and Jess erupt into laugh.

It doesn’t seem that funny, but Finn knows now there’s things like inside jokes and this must be one of them. He goes to ask for the story behind it, but then there are presents and then Finn forgets.

Snap and Jess give him a present together. It’s a blue blanket from the softest material Finn has ever touched.

“No one knows better than pilots how cold the med-bay can get,” Jess tells him.

“Yeah, and you’ll probably be here for a while,” Thule adds helpfully.

Finn doesn’t really care about that. He knows better than to mention the First Order temperature endurance trainings and spoil the afternoon. Instead, he asks:

“What is it made of?”

“Tauntaun wool,” Snap answers and when Finn only looks at him with no idea what is he talking about, he continues. “It’s an animal from ice planet Hoth. Typically they’re used to carry goods or people, but their hair is extremely thick and yet soft, so sometimes it’s used to make fabric as well. You should ask BB-8 for some holos on fauna of the Galaxy.”

“Which brings me to my present…” Poe inserts himself into the conversation and from underneath Finn’s bed pulls an enormous bag he stashed there earlier. It captured Finn’s attention briefly when they all came in but he soon got overwhelmed with the songs and cake and people and the whole birthday business.

Poe dumps the bag on bed next to Finn and it makes a dent in the mattress so deep Finn almost rolls over. And then Poe starts taking book upon book out of it, piling it all on the small table next to the bed. He tops the precarious mountain with a pad and a pair of headphones.

“History, politics, simplified geography of the galaxy, a cookbook, mechanics for beginners, droidspeak for beginners, overview of the most sentient species that live in the New Republic, storybook, fauna and flora of Inner and Outer Rim, novel, novelised history of the Rebellion, another novel... “ Poe lists while pointing at each of the books. “And me and BB-8 loaded the pad with about thousands of documentaries and holo movies and all the most popular songs from the past ten years, plus some classic.”

Poe straightens up and smiles like he’s the sun itself.

“By classics you don’t mean the Yavin folk by any chance, Dameron?” Thule snickers, but Poe completely ignores him.

“Happy birthday, Finn,” he smiles down at him, now quiet and private. BB-8 gives a bubble of beep and boop and Finn dangles one arm down patting its domed head while the light in his chest dances.

“I brought the cake,” Trisha smiles. “Happy birthday Finn!”

“I hope you like this,” Kalonia steps up next and she looks a bit nervous.

She hands Finn a picture, real one printed on a paper.

There’s a group of about eight Stormtroopers on it.

Except they’re not Stormtroopers at all. The armour looks the same at the first glance, but even though the photograph is grainy, old and wrinkled, Finn had worn the Stormtrooper outfit his entire life and he can see subtle differences on the armour on the pictures from the one that used to be his. Most significantly though, the armour is painted, each of the men wearing a different pattern in blue, and their helmets are off. Some of them are holding it in their hands like second heads, others seem to be missing them altogether. One of them up front sits on his like on an upturned bucket. Finn can’t see their faces very well, aged as the paper is, but he can tell without a doubt the colour of their skin, hair and eyes is the same.

“Clones…” he breathes.

“So you know about Clone Wars?” Kalonia asks.

“Just bits and pieces…” Finn says, still staring at the picture in his hands. “We learned about some of the strategies, not the history. They told us those were the original Stormtroopers and that they were clones. We were supposed to be as close to them as possible…”

Finn trails off, but this time not because he doesn’t want to upset anyone. Suddenly he realises there’s another lie the First Order told him and this one seems to be the biggest of them all.

“We don’t really know that much about it either. Most of the official accounts were destroyed by the Empire and there’s barely anyone alive today who lived through it and their stories are all jumbled together,” Poe explains, but Finn barely hears him.

“They wanted us to be like clones. One just like the other. Pieces in the machine,” Finn says like he’s in a dream. He isn’t sure the words are leaving his mouth, but they must, because everyone else quiets down. “But they lied! These people are not clones at all - look at them, they painted things on their armour! This one has a tattoo!”

Kalonia puts a hand on his trembling one, helps him holding the picture up.

“Yes,” she says. “That’s why I - we - wanted you to have it. To see that despite everything they told you in the First Order, despite how your life’s been until now - you’re not a number, Finn. You’re not a thing. And it doesn’t matter how much other people want to see you as a clone, as a part of an army, the one of the First Order, or this one or the next one, you will always be an individual. Just like they were.”

Finn looks in her eyes, kind and good, but also honest and strong and he nods.

“As Poe said, there’s not that much we know about the clone troopers, but it’s known they were made and bred for war. They never knew anything else, these people. But from those who met them, they were not just soldiers or machines. They were kind and brave and loyal. Some of them were mischievous and some of them even defied orders. Ask some of the older members of the Resistance, many of them had heard stories from their parents - Admiral Ackbar even personally met clone troopers when he was young! We don’t even know how this picture got here, it was somewhere in the supplies we brought from the old Rebellion bases from times of the Empire.”

Kalonia gently turns Finn’s hand so he can see neat writing on the back of the picture saying: “Torrent Company” and a row of numbers that are presumably the date but it doesn’t make any sense. Must be the old dating system from before the Empire.

“The General said the Torrent Company was known for their work with Jedi,” Kalonia continues. “So she named the base after them. Like a good luck charm.”

Finn’s anger is gone in the face of all that kindness and thoughtfulness. He wonders how is it possible the entire First Order doesn’t collapse from the force of it at once.

“Thank you,” he says, pressing the picture to his chest. “It’s wonderful. I will keep it as my own good luck charm. Thank you.”

Kalonia smiles and nods and makes space for Thule who is pushing forward.

“Right, my turn!” he orders. “It’s not that original after our good doctor presented hers, but here - present from me!”

Thule almost tosses his little trinket at Finn. It’s a picture too - this one is a holo though, in a simple frame. Finn looks at it and - it’s Thule. Grinning into the camera in all his glory, yellow skin and lekku and all. Finn laughs until there are tears in his eyes and they’re not one bit sad.

It’s his first inside joke after all.

 

* * *

 

This is how Finn thinks world should work: The innocent should not suffer needlessly. Good, kind people like Poe and the General should not suffer. Young, bright people should not be fighting and endless war. They should eat cakes and joke around and fly high in the sky without a worry to be seen by an enemy and without weapons to shoot that enemy.

Little children should not be stolen from their parents and robbed of a childhood. Everyone should have a choice. There should not be people in the galaxy so hungry for power they strip another being of everything that makes them human just to have an army of mindless slaves. Evil like that should be punished. Every murderer should be punished.

Finn realises, curled up in his comfortable bed, belly full of a cake - this is nothing like the world works at all.

The soldiers of Torrent Company on Finn’s picture fought for better world all those years ago, and now the Resistance does, too. Finn is fiercely glad he’s part of it now and not just because of the cake and presents and kindness and jokes and songs.

 

* * *

 

“...now stretch your arms up for me, just like that.”

Finn complies, hiding a small wince expertly.

“Any pain?” Kalonia asks.

Finn shakes his head.

It's not even a lie, not exactly. Finn can sit, stand, walk, even run with no problems now. It's just the more strenuous movements that, well, don't _quite_ pain him, they're just, strange. Not even uncomfortable, just different, as if his body was surprised every time he manages to stretch the new muscles. Finn thinks that is only expected. If Kalonia wasn't this good of a doctor, if the medicine in the Galaxy wasn't as evolved, hell, if he was still with the First Order, he wouldn't be able to move them. He probably wouldn't be able to move at all.

And therefore Finn needs to get out of the medbay. The moment he starts moving properly again, surely his body will adapt. He just needs to practise more. And he needs not to be glued to the bed, his only company for the most time medi-droids and the white, maddening noise of the machines around him, the solitude and boredom leaving plenty of time for him to think, to circle around the same thoughts again and again. One more day of this and Finn _will_ go insane.

Thule’s standing next to Kalonia, occasionally making small notes in his data pad, mostly using it to hide his grin. Finn knows he isn't fooling him for a second. He isn't probably fooling Kalonia either, for that matter, but her face doesn't give anything away.

Finally, she seems to have run out of movement for Finn to do and she stands before him, hands on her hips, contemplating him. Finn tries very hard not to squirm under her gaze.

“You know,” she says, her voice unreadable to Finn - it's kind as always, so she can't be angry, but there's a note of something else, and it could be amusement, but also annoyance. “I love Poe Dameron as much as the next Resistance fighter, but I wish you kids didn't take every single advice from his book. You are none of you invincible. You do know, Finn, starling,” and Kalonia’s voice softens here. “That being injured isn't weakness, right? You know you're allowed to rest?”

Finn’s throat does that strange swelling thing and he nods silently.

“Then it _is_ the case of Poe Dameron’s shining example on how to be a hero with no limits until they make themselves known by knocking him out cold in the shower and making us to carry his naked ass all the way to the medbay! Look, major, it is contagious after all!” Thule cries with what Finn thinks it's inappropriate amount of glee. Also, what?

“What? Poe actually did _that?”_

Kalonia shakes her head, exasperated.

“Yep!” Thule is nodding his head energetically, eyes aglow with gleeful enthusiasm. “Did three days of patrols straight, bruised a rib at the training, went to a three hour session of strategic planning and then was astonished to wake up in the medbay. Also probably robbed all the girls and most of the guys we met on his naked ride through the base of their ability to speak for at least a week. Little Jolie from communications probably haven't retained it back ever since!”

“Unlike what Dameron and his fanclub would have you believe, there isn't weakness or shame in telling your medic the truth. In fact, it's rather desirable trait among the soldiers.”

“I know, I know! And Poe never made me believe otherwise!” Finn had to jump to his friend defence. “He keeps telling me I should rest and to take all the time I need, but I'm as rested as I'm ever going to be and I'm so _bored._ Nothing really hurts anymore, it just kinda… Pulls sometimes? And I keep expecting it will hurt so it throws me off when it doesn't and sometimes it feels like I don't know which muscle to use to move, but it always sorts itself out eventually. I just need to move more, and properly, not just from the fresher and back!”

Finn knows he probably sounds as frustrated as he feels and that it might not do him any favours with Kalonia, but he can't help it. Once he starts talking he doesn't seem to be able to stop.

Kalonia gives him another appraising glance and Finn clenches his fists, feels his brows pull together anxiously. Kalonia releases long breath, presses fingers to her temple for a second and then looks Finn in the eye with the most serious expression.

“I understand,” she says and this Finn didn't expect. “And I agree that you probably don't need to stay in medbay any longer. However, I will not clear you for active duty yet. The General mentioned command has a lot of questions for you and I will recommend you for light training, maybe some blaster exercise, and I expect to see you here every three days for check-up. _And_ I trust you're responsible enough to continue your PT and not overdo it and take your medicine.”

And this Finn definitely didn't expect. His expression must say as much, because Kalonia’s expression melts into a smile and even Thule’s eyes soften and he looks down to his datapad.

Kalonia reaches over and touches Finn’s cheek with infinite gentleness, then lays her hand on his shoulder.

“You are not a prisoner here, Finn. If you feel like you're ready to leave, I trust you. Which is _not_ an invitation to lie to me in the future!” she adds sternly and Finn chuckles. “But as much as I want you alive and well, I want you to be happy too. I know you are bored. And while I want you to take it lightly and continue with your PT and check-ups and having you here on my watch twenty-four hours a day would be ideal, I also want you to make a life for yourself and that can't happen if I isolate you and wrap you in bubble wrap to make sure nothing ever hurts you again. I want you to read books and make new friends and try new foods. I want you to learn new things and explore the world. Alright, Finn? Can you do that for me? I know there is so much that bothers you, so much that you find confusing that you don't talk about and having you scooped here doesn't help that. So yes, if you think you're ready to take on the world, I believe you.”

Kalonia finishes her speech with a smile and it's just as well, because Finn is seriously going to cry. No one in his life has been ever this kind to him, not even eM. She might have wished she could be, but she couldn't and she wasn't.

And this, this confuses Finn maybe the most. This kindness everyone extends to him. Soft touches, sweet words, smiles and hugs. Finn doesn't know how to answer those and he doesn't think he deserves any of it. Isn't he supposed to be their enemy? A stranger, at the best, a stranger who was ready to sell them all for a chance to get the girl he loves back. Finn doesn't think they realise that and he doesn't know how to remind them. It just seems like the right, fair thing to do.

He loves it, of course. How he loves it! He could bath in this sweet affection forever, he thinks. At the same time, he maybe hopes just a little bit that outside of the medbay, things will be different. More like the First Order. That some of the soldiers will surely hate him for what he is. That he'll be expected to contribute to the Resistance, to repay them for their kindness. It probably isn't quite the healthy wish, but it would be something Finn knows.

And now Kalonia tells him he's expected to read and learn and make friends (how does one even do that?), and that he'll be able to keep picking his food and… And that somehow terrifies Finn.

“Sure thing!” he fakes a grin the best he can. “So when can I leave?”

He's terrified, but that doesn't mean he wants to stay here and he sure as hell isn't going to tell Kalonia, good, lovely Kalonia who believes in him so much, any of this. There's enough darkness in the Galaxy without Finn adding to it. He'll keep it tight and secret inside him.

“No love for the old doctor, this one has,” Kalonia laughs and pats his cheek again, this time apparently convinced with his smile. “As far as I'm concerned, you can leave right this moment. However I'd rather you didn't wander the base alone and got lost the first day. I can't go with you and give you a tour right now, so Thule, if you were so kind and contacted Commander Dameron?”

“On it!” Thule answers with wide grin and his fingers immediately begins to dance on his datapad.

“Poe?” Finn asks, bewildered. “Why would I… I'm pretty sure Poe doesn't have time to be giving a tour to a lowly soldier.”

Finn says this in a joking, light tone, but he's completely serious. Poe is a commander. He must be terribly busy and when he isn't, he definitely has better things to be doing than keep company to an ex-stormtrooper. Sure, he spent a fair amount of time at his bedside those first couple of days after he woke up, but that was just Finn’s good luck that a lull in the fight combined with surprising selflessness of Poe Dameron and the pilot decided to keep Finn company.

“Oh no, he insisted he'll be informed when you're released and when I told him you might be ready to leave by the end of this week, he requested to stay planetside so he will be close if needed and as far as I know, there was no reason for  pilots to leave this morning.”

“Huh?” Finn says, because… _Huh_? Poe requested a leave for him… Poe wants to be there? This is unexpected and it makes Finn’s head spin.

“Well, I guess he kinda… Owes me? For saving his life and… Stuff?”

Which, obviously, isn't true. They saved each other. No debts there. If anything, Finn is the one in debt, because of top of saving him, Poe named him, and gifted him with jacket and, maybe (Finn thinks this only tentatively), home.

“I guess he kinda does,” Kalonia says, her eyes crinkled in delight and gives him another look Finn can't begin to decipher. Behind her, Thule sounds like he suddenly forgot how to breathe and is making some truly distressing noises. Finn looks over Kalonia’s back and Thule’s entire face is hidden behind the datapad and his lekku are twitching suspiciously.

“Is he…”

“Oh, he's fine,” Kalonia dismisses Finn’s concerns with a wave of her hand.

She seems amused, which is strange with her apprentice possibly choking behind her back, but then again, Finn might be reading her wrong again. Maybe that's the face people make when they're panicking?

However, Thule calms down by the time Poe with BB-8 in tow arrives - which is very quick - and he doesn't seem to suffer any lasting damage, so Finn dismisses it as one of the stranger things people do.

“So, buddy,” Poe grins. “Ready to take on the world?”

Finn is absolutely not ready to take on the world, but he forces another smile - his cheeks are beginning to hurt - and nods. It’s the right reaction, because Poe lights up and steers Finn out of the med-bay with an arm around his shoulders. Kalonia gives them a wave and Thule a wink, that makes Poe scrunch his nose adorably - Finn wonders quietly if that’s an appropriate thought about a grown man - and then they’re out of a medbay.

It’s strange, because Finn was out of the medbay before and it’s not like he can go far, even if he wanted and managed to escape the Resistance base, he has no means to get off the planet, but it seems all new, like the world stretches in front of him, open. The air is fresh in his lungs and something invisible crackles around him, dances along his skin in goosebumps.

_Freedom_ , thought comes to his mind, unbidden, in a voice that isn’t his or anyone he can remember. _This_ _is freedom_.

“Right, first thing first - I’m gonna show you your room!” Poe announces excitedly, steering Finn to the left where he knows living quarters of most of the Resistance fighters are.

“I’ve got a… Room?” Finn asks, eyes widening in awe.

“Of course you’ve got a room, buddy! There’s one that had your name on it for weeks! I bet it’s getting really lonely, so we better hurry up.”

“Why such hurry?” Finn laughs.

“Because we have _plans_ ,” Poe says mysteriously and waggles his eyebrows, making Finn laugh even more.

Poe’s plans turn out to be a complete tour of the Torrent base - or, well, most of it.

“The important bits,” Poe says. “The tunnels stretch far into the hill, but most of it is unused right now, or used for storage. We’re working on making most of it into living quarters and possibly a second mess hall, because so many people are signing up these days and we’ll need more space, but for now it’s completely uninteresting.”

So Poe takes him to the command centre, where all the eyes turn on them and Finn feels very awkward, and the gym and pilots rec room and common rec room, the library, droid’s workshop where BB-8 cheerfully beeps at its fellow robots. Poe shows him small kitchen and common showers on Finn’s corridor as well, and then takes him to the mess hall to “see what real food tastes like” before the lunch rush hits so they have their privacy. (and Finn has to admit that the food is much better than it was in the medbay, which has its own little kitchen.) Poe invites him to his own room, which has an extra bed full of pillows and blankets clearly used as a sofa, a private bathroom and, most amazing of all, star charts and posters and pictures of Poe with his friends and family all over the walls, an orange and white cupboard with a kettle, and a set of shelves mounted to the wall displaying an array of colourful objects - brightly painted set of mugs, softly coloured seashells, models of starships, books, candles and more pictures.

Before all of that though, Poe shows Finn to _his_ new room.

It’s rather small, with a bed and a bedside table made from dark wood and a wardrobe on the opposite wall from a completely non matching wood, a window in-between with a wide windowsill that can be used as a shelf, and little hooks next to the door to hang Finn’s new jacket. There is barely space to make two steps between the bed and the wardrobe and four steps from the door to the window, but it’s his and Finn stands there in awe.

“I know it’s not much…” Poe says regretfully.

“It’s amazing. I have never had such a big space to myself,” Finn tells him honestly.

Poe’s eyes go a bit sad at that, so Finn pulls him out of the room, saying he’ll bring his things later. (He doesn’t have any things to bring, but he doesn’t think that would cheer Poe up.)

At last, Poe takes him to the hangar.

Finn doesn’t think Poe was saving it to the last for Finn’s sake, rather than for his own. Finn knows nothing about the machinery, it was as far from his specialization in the First Order as possible, but Poe is so clearly excited, so clearly in love with the ships that, although not understanding most of what Poe tells him about specifics and history of each starship, Poe’s obvious enthusiasm for the subject delights him all the same. They’re about halfway through the tour, and Finn is having the time of his life watching Poe’s expression light up over and over again, his entire body swaying with each word to better communicate, when an announcement fills the comms in the hangar.

“Would all ground personnel and visitors kindly clear the landing strip and make space in the hangars, the Dagger Squadron is approaching, ETA ten minutes!”

Poe whoops loudly at that and pulls Finn to the side.

“We don’t have to leave, just make the space for ships and the crew to move around,” he tells Finn, his eyes lit up with joy. “The Dagger Squadron leader is one of my oldest friends, we were at the Academy together. She’s been away on a mission for a while - I can’t wait to see her again. And I can’t wait for you to meet her! She’s gonna love you.”

Finn doesn’t know where that certainty in Poe’s voice is coming from, but he valiantly tries to believe it until proved otherwise.

The squadron of X-Wings finally lands, more graceful than any machine big like that has any right to, and the pilots tumble out. They’re met with an uproarious applause and they mockingly bow left and right while taking off their helmets. Quickly though, everyone makes space for the ground team that piles onto tarmac and smoothly begins their post-flight routines. The pilots walk toward the smaller group of welcomers that Finn is in.

“Poe!” a beautiful, dark-skinned woman with bright blond hair braided in an intricate pattern atop her head shouts when she spots him, and her face nearly splits in a big smile.

“Karé!” Poe answers in kind and steps towards, opening his arms so Karé can fling herself into his embrace.

“You bantha shit!” she says slapping his back in which looks like rather painful manner. Finn is confused. This isn’t the kind of greeting he expected Karé to give based on Poe’s description. He suddenly very much doubts this woman will be kind enough to like Finn.

“We were on blackout for almost the whole time and what’s the first thing I hear upon coming back on line? That my commander spend the last few weeks risking his life and almost dying dozen times! You know what’s it like to feel such an onslaught of delayed worry and relief?”

Karé draws back and Finn sees that her eyes are glistening. And then it hits him - Karé isn’t angry, she is worried in the same gruff way Snap and Thule are.

“Dozens? Hardly!” Poe laughs. “The ground command are a bunch of gossips and tale spinners. As if you didn’t know that! Was it Kaydel giving you an update? It was, wasn’t it?”

But despite Poe’s light-hearted demeanor, Finn sees how he squeezes Karé’s arm reassuringly and the space around them fills with comfort and security, light and soft like cotton wool.

Then Karé looks at Finn and her expression lights up in another grin.

“Ooooh!” she coos. “And this must be your handsome-...”

“Stormtrooper!” another voice, high and somewhat shrill in its fierce tone cuts in.

Finn turns around and there stands a short girl with blue skin, big, amber eyes, and brilliantly pink hair. Her features are soft and pretty, cheeks rounded. She looks sweet and innocent, but her eyes are ablaze with such fury that Finn steps back, bumping his shoulder to Karé. What a fury is this! It pushes at Finn like a shield, cold and angry like the snow on Starkiller, like Kylo Ren’s lightsaber, broken with pain and rage the boy puts into it.

“So it’s true,” she keeps going, hands clenched in fists at her sides as if she was holding herself from lunging at Finn. “We really are nurturing an enemy in our midst.”

“Chie,” Karé sighs from behind Finn. “Stop.”

But the girl, apparently named Chie, doesn’t show any signs of stopping. In fact, she doesn’t seem to hear Karé at all. Her cheeks grow darker blue and her eyes glimmer with something Finn knows very well but hasn’t had aimed at him in weeks. The same sort of almost casual hate Hux used to direct at him, his team used to direct at him.

“So we’re letting enemies to our secrets now, are we? And traitors? You do all realise,” she addresses her next words to everybody, although her eyes never leave Finn’s and he finds equally unable to turn his sight. “You do all know that he betrayed the First Order, right? So he’s nothing more than a dirty turncoat. And hear my words, it’s just a question of time until he turns on us. Maybe he already has!”

She steps closer and her voice is quieter, but somehow more dangerous.

“You a spy, buckethead?”

“Tanga, cut it!” Poe says curtly and now Finn knows the difference between Poe sprouting offenses in a jest and when he is seriously angry. He steps forward, not quite in front of Finn - and Finn is grateful for that; he appreciates the support, but he wants to fight his own battles, especially in front of an audience.

And Chie continues on as if Poe didn’t say a word, her voice raising again, whether so everyone can hear her, or in anger, Finn doesn’t know.

“You all might be happy to have a pet Stormtrooper on base, but I’m not alright with it! Sharing a living space with an enemy - that’s not what I signed for. That’s not what I signed for!”

Chie yells the last words on the top of her lungs, then throws last furious glance at Finn, turns on a heel and marches away, throwing her helmet with the Resistance insignia on the floor.

It clatters on durasteel, the sound echoing in the silence suddenly descending on the hangar.

Well, so much for fighting his battles, Finn thinks dully.

BB-8 beeps something that sounds angry and it breaks the silence spell. Everyone begins to awkwardly shuffle around.

“Well, that was an introduction,” one of the pilots say, bewilderment clear in her voice.

Finn can agree to that.

“That’s Chie Tanga,” Karé says slowly, watching the leaving girl. “Her homeworld suffered a lot during the Galactic War and then at hands of the Empire - she has a lot of anger in her. You must excuse her.”

And Finn does, he kind of understands, actually, and goes to say it, but Poe speaks first.

“Don’t mind her, Finn,” he says, squeezing Finn’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter what Chie says. She’ll come around soon,” he adds, giving Karé a meaningful look.

“Oh, yeah,” Karé agrees quickly, giving Finn encouraging smile. “Don’t you mind her, Finn. It’ll be all good.”

Finn doesn’t actually mind her, he’s only happy that Poe’s friend Karé truly seems to like him, so she probably won’t try and stop Poe from being Finn’s friend too, so he just nods.

Poe makes their goodbyes quickly and pulls Finn away, his expression pinched and unhappy.

“Hey, do you think I can get any of the things like you have in your room? Like maybe some plants and blankets and pictures, so my room looks a bit more… Colourful? I’d like it to be colourful,” Finn begins to babble in an effort to distract Poe. It mostly works, when Poe drags him to the quartermaster, a sully Toydarian named Jay’in and somehow charms the grumpy Resistance official into giving Finn plenty of little knick-knacks to fill his little room. He even runs off to his room and brings Finn one of his own holo-frames, and BB-8 happily uploads one of the pictures of Rey it has captured back on Jakku so Finn can put it on the shelf next to the framed picture of Torrent Company.

They spend the rest of the day making Finn’s room cozy and it’s lovely, with Poe’s jokes and smiles and little touches. Finn has honestly never laughed that much in his whole life.

Later, Poe takes him outside.

Finn didn’t think he’ll be allowed outside that soon. He knows that in the Resistance people are allowed to go wherever they please in their free time - they’re allowed to _have_ free time - and they even get whole days off when they can go off planet and visit their friends and families elsewhere in the Galaxy, but he still thinks of himself as more of a war prisoner than anything else. He doesn’t tell that to Poe. He doesn’t need any more angry outbursts. Besides, outside is _amazing_. Finn isn’t going to question his freedom, he promptly decides. He’s going to enjoy it.

And it gets better. There’s what seems like half of the Resistance out there and people are stacking wood into a high, ordered pile, and when it gets dark, they light it. Finn has never seen anything like this. There’s food and drink and music.

“I told you we had plans,” Poe laughs at Finn’s flabbergasted expression. “It’s a celebration of our victory at Starkiller. It wasn’t appropriate before, we needed to mourn first…”

Poe’s voice goes quiet and Finn wants to press his palm to Poe’s shoulder blade the way Poe did to Finn’s when Finn got scared or shy or overwhelmed, but he doesn’t quite know how to move his arms in the right way, in the Poe way, sure and comforting, so he doesn’t do anything. Poe picks himself up quick enough.

“And then we all thought we could wait couple more days for you to be able to join us - you know, it’s not a right party without the main star of the operation!” Poe laughs and claps Finn’s shoulder and Finn’s cheek heat up. “Enjoy your party, buddy!”

Frankly, Finn thinks Poe is enjoying just a little bit more than Finn, but that’s okay - Finn is happy enough to watch his friend jump this way and that, offering commentary on everything, that BB-8 supplements with his beeps and boops. Poe keeps shushing him, glancing at Finn nervously as if he expected Finn has miraculously learned binary sometime in the last thirty minutes. It makes him curious what it is that BB-8 is saying.

“You’ve got to try this, Finn, it’s the best!” Poe says when they reach the table with food and tosses a small pastry to him (if nothing else, Finn can thank First Order for lighting-quick reflexes).

The pastry is nice, sweet and crumbling in Finn’s mouth and he can easily agree it is the best thing he’s ever tasted. (possibly with an exception of a chocolate cake.)

He barely finishes it and Poe is throwing another thing at him.

“You have to try this one, buddy, it’s the best!” Poe says convincingly and Finn bites into it.

This one is savoury, filled with some kind of vegetable mix and it’s possibly even better.

“Oh and this one, Finn, this is the best thing in the world!” Poe throws him a strange roll that tastes of fish.

“And you gotta try the corellian ale, Finn, you can’t miss that, it’s the best!” and Finn drinks something slightly bitter but strangely good and refreshing.

“Oh, look, sunfruit, Finn, have some, it’s the absolute best thing!” and Finn bites into a tart fruit and sweetness like he’s never tasted before blossoms on his tongue, better than chocolate.

“Someone brought crispics! Awesome - Finn you have to try, it’s the best!” And Finn found himself with another type of roll, this time crispy and warm and meaty.

“Warra nuts, Finn, have some, they’re best snacks this side of the Galaxy!” and Finn has a  bowl of some sort of spiced nuts that are crunchy and truly delicious.

Finn discovers that evening that he really, really likes sunfruit and that apparently everything is “the best” to Poe. BB-8 grumbles in its beeps and boops obviously thinking its master silly, but Finn finds it endearing. Poe is so alive and so interested in life. Finn has never met anyone like him. It’s absolutely magnificent to watch him and soak his joy.

At least until they move from food to drinks.

First Poe offers him more corellian ale (there is more than one kind!) and then he begins his game of “the best” again.

“Try this wine Finn, it’s the best!”  
“Sullustan wine Finn, it’s the best!”

“Who brought Riosan liqueur? You can’t live your life without trying this Finn, it’s the best thing to get drunk!”

“Oh, that’s Bespin Sparkle - you have to try Finn. It’s from my home. You won’t find better wine. It’s the best!”

“Sunfruit liqueur, here buddy, try, it’s the best!”

Finn really likes the sunfruit liqueur which is sweet and thick sliding down his throat.

He and Poe move to the fire and sit down and Jess and Snap and eventually about half the hangar crew join them. Finn listens to the war stories and jibs and jokes and sips on one, two, three small cups of sunfruit liqueur and feels happy. However, after a little while, the happiness in his stomach settles into a heavy weight that seems to drag Finn toward the centre of D’Qar and his eyelids toward his cheeks. The conversation slowly escapes him, replaced by white hum and nausea rolling in his stomach. Finn thinks he’s blanking out for big chunks of time, but he can’t be sure - everything is slowly spinning around him, the light of fire too bright and too hot in one moment and in the next no warmth reaches him and Finn shivers. It’s easy to loose time among this confusion, he supposes, and that’s the most logical though he has.

He panics a little bit and then he tries to reach the comforting warmth inside him that is never too hot nor too cold but just so and he can’t find it, and then he panics a lot.

He didn’t want to say anything to Poe, because Poe is having so much fun and Finn really shouldn’t make a big deal (bigger deal) out of himself, but he must eventually make a distressed sound or something, because suddenly everyone’s attention is on him.

“Finn?” Poe asks. “Are you okay? Is your back bothering you?”

Finn is sure he was capable of words, once upon a time, but they all left him now. Deserted him.

Hi words are deserters, just like him.

The thought makes Finn chuckle and then it makes him cry a little.

“He’s drunk, Poe!” someone else says, a girl. Jess? She feels like Jess, Finn thinks. A bit jumpy, like flying on the Falcon, but also like colours and sunshine.

She sounds accusatory, however, and Finn blindly reaches to pat Poe on a shoulder consolingly – at least he thinks he reached Poe.

Whatever happened, Finn is sure it wasn’t Poe’s fault. Nothing is ever Poe’s fault.

Someone chuckles and Finn thinks he might have said the last thing out loud. But what was the last thing?

“I didn’t think he’ll get drunk! He grew up with the soldiers, I thought all the soldiers are physically incapable to get drunk! Finn, buddy, have you ever been drunk before?”

Finn is quiet, looking for his words for a little while, and then suddenly they’re there. They’ve come back, Finn thinks. Unlike him. He will never go back.

“No,” he says slowly, carefully, the word rolling from his tongue hundred times before it finally tumbles out. “But I have heard of it,” he adds to make it better, because suddenly he feels like not being drunk is some horrific failure on his part, like letting Slip die, like letting Han Solo die, like killing everybody on Starkiller die, like being no more than a little scared boy that never had a chance to decide things for himself before, who lived in the dark and now fumbles in the world of technicolour, like wearing white for all his life and never caring what it is he brings to the Galaxy.

He might cry a little bit more then.

“He has _heard of it_!” someone who isn’t Jess or Poe says and it sounds mocking.

“Mocking is not nice,” Finn says, because it isn’t, and maybe that person didn’t know, but Finn will tell them. Finn will tell everyone all the good and right things now.

There’s more chuckling all around and then Poe sneaks his arms under Finn’s and lifts him up.

“It’s water and bed for you, buddy,” Poe says and there’s equal laugh and worry in his voice.

Finn doesn’t care for the worry much, but the laugh is glorious. He also doesn’t have any problem with going to bed. The earth under his feet spins like crashing TIE Fighter. Laying down sounds, in fact, heavenly.

“I have heard of getting drunk,” he says slowly, taking care with each words because it seems they either want to tumble out of his mouth in an avalanche or stick on his tongue forever. “And I was led to believe it’s something one does for fun. I was lied to. This is very unpleasant. Why would anyone do it for fun?”

There is more laughing at his words and then Poe leads him back to his room, chuckling quietly.

Finn still doesn’t like being drunk, but the night air is warm and pleasant and Poe’s arm around him even more so and Finn thinks, with Poe’s quiet snorts of laugh in his ear and his hair tickling Finn’s cheek, that all in all, it wasn’t a bad evening.

He changes his mind when he wakes up in a morning with pounding headache and Poe by his side.

“Did you stay here the whole night?” he asks, squinting into the light.

“Yeah,” Poe laughs. “I was a bit worried I’ll have our very own Stormtrooper’s death on my shirt if I left you alone in the state you were in.”

Finn groans and tries to bury his head under the pillows. His only consolation is that the warm light in his chest is back and calmly drifts in the empty space behind his ribs.

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Poe pats his back and hands him a glass of water. “We’ve all been there. When I got drunk for the first time, they dared me to walk down the corridor of the Academy naked. Mid-way through I got tired and decided to have a nap. Opened the first door, crawled into bed – it turned out it was one of our instructor’s room. She woke up half the Academy with how loud she screamed when she lifted her blanket and found me lying there stark naked and snoring.”

Finn can’t help it and laughs and Poe grins at him and presses the glass with water into his hand. It makes Finn feel hundred times better – the water and Poe’s story both.

Kalonia is anything but happy with them, glaring at Poe and grumbling about irresponsible pilots and combining medication with alcohol.

Thule laughs like a lunatic.

“Tune it down, please,” Finn begs him when the sound amplifies his headache.

“WHAT? SPEAK UP, FINN!” Thule bellows and Finn winces and turns his pleading eyes at Kalonia. The doctor is entirely unsympathetic, however.

“You will be the worst healer,” she tells Thule dryly and goes to fetch something to sober Finn up.

It only makes Thule laugh harder and he punctuates his entertainment with his palm hitting the desk, each hit carving a new cut into Finn’s brain.

“Sorry, buddy. Having hangover and being tortured by your friends comes in a package,” Poe says, patting Finn’s back again.

And so Finn finds out he likes parties and sunfruit and Poe’s laugh, but he hates alcohol with passion. He steers clear of it from then.

 

* * *

 

Three days after leaving the medbay and getting his own room, Finn begins to regret his eagerness to be an independent human being. The days are fine. The days are great, even. He spends them mostly with Poe, unless he's doing his PT or reading. Jess laughs at him, telling him he follows Poe around like a baby bantha, but she happily takes him under her wing in case Poe’s running drills or gets stuck in top secret meetings with the command. Snap is nice and incredibly, endlessly patient with him, answering all his questions (and Finn has a _lot_ of questions, everything on the base new and exciting to him) with consideration and honesty. Finn meets other pilots and a lot of mechanics, notably Amara, the only other Twi'lek on the base, whom Finn meets for the first time the very next day after his release from the medbay, when, unsure what to do, he follows Poe to the hangar. Poe doesn’t seem to mind, quite the opposite, he claps Finn’s back enthusiastically and gives him the most brilliant smile. Finn sits next to the Black One while Poe is under it tinkering with something and asking Finn for instruments. Finn has no idea what is what, but BB-8 helpfully points on the things Poe is demanding so Finn can hand it to him. He thinks sooner or later the droid is going to play a prank on him and point on something completely different from what Poe is actually asking for and Finn will be none the wiser, but so far it’s behaving. It’s a nice morning, quiet and companionable, when a high-toned, sing-song voice breaks it from behind Finn.

“Isn’t it the brave and dashing Poe Dameron?”

Finn turns around quickly and there she is, two lekku just like Thule’s, but her skin is dark green and she wears mechanics overall instead of Thule’s medic tunics, her much slighter and obviously feminine figure a bit lost in it. The Twi’lek girl grins cheekily and continues in the same singing voice, while Poe scrambles from under the Black One.

“Isn’t it? Isn’t it?”

“Oh, the brave and dashing!” another member of the ground crew joins in passing by.

“Cut it, Brance!” Poe shouts at him, finally emerging from underneath the ship.

It’s too late though, the entire hall joined in the meanwhile.

“Brave and dashing Poe Dameron!” sounds from everywhere, Snap’s deep timbre resonating all the way from the opposite side. Finn hopes Poe won’t get upset and leave - he was enjoying his morning in Poe’s company and would be very displeased if this green girl spoiled it. But when he turns to Poe, his face is stretched in a big grin and he doesn’t shush the Twi’lek when she finishes with a high note:

“Brave and dashing Poe Damerooon!”

Instead, Poe gives her slow clap and then opens his arms for the girl to jump in and Poe squeezes her for a moment. It reminds Finn of when he and Poe met on the tarmac after Jakku and he wishes a little bit for Poe to hug him like that again, just without the dying business. He wonders if it’s the singing, or the person, that compels him to do that. If it’s the former, he resolves to learn to sing. Then Poe spins her to face Finn.

“Finn, this is Amara Korona, the best mechanic on Torrent base and the only one who is allowed anywhere near Black One! Remember that, when you see anyone else poking my ship, you need to defend her honour!” Poe laughs.

So it’s the person, Finn thinks, hearing the obvious affection in pilot’s words.

Then Poe calms a little bit and reaches for Finn’s shoulder, gently pushing him towards Amara: “And this is Finn, Amara, out newest hero and my _personal_ hero.”

“Oh, I think we all know that,” Amara throw Poe a glance that Finn doesn’t recognise and curiously tilts her head at Finn, while Poe laughs somewhat nervously and messes with his hair.

“Nice to meet you, Amara,” Finn says politely and puts his hand out like he saw other people do yesterday when they were introducing themselves.

Amara ignores it completely and goes straight for the hug.

Amara is a friend of Thule and heard a lot about Finn and thus was very curious and enthusiastic to meet him. Finn has a small feeling he didn’t disappoint - every time he comes to the hangar and Amara spots him, she runs towards him full speed and gives him the most crushing hug and Finn can’t get enough of this. Never in his life anyone was happy to see him, certainly not _this_ happy and it’s a delight that furthers that little flame in his chest every time. Amara has similar humour to Thule’s, cutting and sharp, and Finn thinks it might be a trait unique to Twi’leks, and he likes it. Everyone is kind to Finn and he gets to try new foods every day and read books and hang out with BB-8 and watch Poe fly.

The days are great, but when the evening comes, after the dinner and chat and cards in the pilots rec room, after saying goodnight to Poe, Finn is left alone in his room. The base quietens and the lights go off, and Finn’s mind goes on. All the thoughts, all the anguish and guilt and sorrow that gets pushed to the back of his mind with the light of the day comes alive and Finn spends endless hours laying still on his bed, staring at his ceiling, while his mind screeches and howls and tries to eat itself alive. In the medbay he could always count on Kalonia doing her midnight rounds or Thule quietly humming till late while sorting the paperwork, other patients breathing and moving quietly in their slumber. Here, it’s only Finn and the silence. Finn and the echo of millions of souls screaming before they were terminated. Finn and the chant of “traitor, traitor, traitor” in Nines’ voice. Finn and Han Solo forever falling into the darkness. Finn and Maz’s castle, fresh and cozy and beautiful, in ruins. Finn and the infinite worry over Rey, over Poe, over the Resistance and the Galaxy, swaying in the uncertain future. Finn and the Starkiller exploding with the bombs he helped to plant, killing everyone on the surface. Finn and Kylo Ren stalking closer and closer. Finn and the angry red glow the red lightsaber casted over the snow. Finn and the row of questions: What could have been done? What could _I_ have done? Was there better way? Was I too weak? Was I not enough? What will happen to me now? What will _happen_ now?

There is nothing else to do but let his thoughts rage, because he was told how long the rest hours are, and that they are mandatory (Kalonia gave him a raised brow at that question) and Finn knows he’s expected to stay in his room and not wander around.

It takes him ages to fall asleep every night, but he is grateful for that.

When he sleeps, it’s much worse.

 

* * *

 

Finn is in his room. Morning light streams through his tiny window. He's standing right in the middle of the floor. He could sit down right on the floor, or lie in the bed, or walk along the bare walls, or look out of the window, or even leave the room, or he could keep standing where he is if he wished to do so. None of these options look particularly desirable, so he just stays as he is. All is quiet.

And then it suddenly isn't.

Finn knows this noise. He knows it very, very well, for it once was his lullaby.

TIE fighters.

The high pitched whooping sound so unique to them is very loud. Very close. As if they were flying right above Finn’s roof. As if there was no roof, even, and they were flying right above his head.

He needs to get out of here.

Finn leaves his room. The corridor before him is very long and very empty. He starts moving down. The panic tastes like the inside of a stormtrooper helmet at the back of his throat. Stifling and suffocating. It slows him down. He feels like he's wading through shallow water. Somehow, he makes it to the end. And then there's another corridor.

Finn stumbles blindly through the maze of halls and corridors, hoping he'll meet someone who will direct him. The sounds of the base in chaos reaches him from the distance, dozens of feet running, but he doesn't meet anyone. It's lunch time, his mind supplies. Everyone was in the mess.

That's where he should be heading. He knows the way, at least he thinks he does. But suddenly, the corridors open to the outside.

The base is indeed under the attack. The TIE fighters are already engaged in their deadly dance with Resistance X-wings. The blaster fire looks like a rain of stars against the night sky. Finn shivers in the cold air. Where has his jacket gone?

And then he hears the quiet chant coming from the TIEs.

Traitor, traitor, traitor, it says.

The TIEs abandon their efforts with Resistance pilots and concentrate fire on Finn.

He has to take cover. So he runs into the forest. It's dark. He trips over a root. Branches hit him in face. And then there's a light, a subtle shine coming from behind the trees.Finn goes towards it. The TIEs quiet down.

Finn comes to a clearing. A wreck of an X-wing sits there. Its remains are on fire. In its flickering light, Finn can see the familiar black paint, orange patterns. He shouts something, he thinks, and runs to it.

There's a pilot still strapped inside. Their eyes are staring towards the sky, unseeing. Their jumpsuit is bloody. It's not Poe, though. It's Karé Kun, her hair in disarray, her pretty dark skin sallow and covered in cuts.

“Traitor,” comes from behind him.

Finn turns around and Chie Tanga is standing there, golden eyes gleaming in the dark.

“Traitor!” she shouts louder and other pilots and Resistance members step out of the shadows.

“You brought them here?” Jess Pava asks.

“No!” Finn says.

“You told them where we were hiding?” Doctor Kalonia asks.

“No!” Finn says louder, more desperate.

“We trusted you,” General Organa says.

“I didn't… I didn't do it, I swear!” Finn’s eyes are wet. His voice wavers.

“They followed you here. You didn't know,” Poe says. Finn turns to him, grateful. Poe’s eyes are kind. His face, however, is drawn as if in pain. Is he injured?

“He's a liability, then,” Admiral Ackbar says.

“Murderer!” Chie Tanga yells at the top of her lungs. Her beautiful face is marred with hate.

“It's not like we have any use for him anymore,” says Snap and turns to Poe. “You brought him here. You do it.”

The rest of the Resistance looks to Poe. Finn also looks to Poe. He wishes he were standing in his bedroom again.

“Poe…” he whispers.  

Poe doesn't hear him. His eyes are still infinitely kind. He looks Finn right in the face. He reaches to his waist and pulls out his blaster.  

He shoots Finn in the chest.

 

Finn falls of the bed and doesn't know if it was the terror of his dream or the fall that woke him up, but he knows he's grateful for it. He also knows he wants to cry, scream, run and possibly vomit, but at the moment has trouble to draw a breath, so those will have to wait.

“You're alright,” he tries to tell himself out loud, so there's another sound in his room beside his gulping, panicked breaths, but his voice is no more than a hoarse whisper that only frightens him more. It's so quiet, everything around him is so blastedly quiet and Finn’s loud breathing echoes in the empty room. He curls on his side in his bed, as if he could squash the feelings of fear and terror inside him only if he curls tight enough. Sweat is running down his back and cheeks (how did even his face get this wet?), but his hands and feet feel cold and the whole room is _so damn empty_!

Finn gets out of the bed, still struggling to pull enough air into his lungs while simultaneously battling the urge to scream. He scrambles to the door and opens it, and there's the corridor - empty! - and Finn can't anymore, his mouth opens and he screams, damn everybody's sweet sleep. Except, similiar to his words, no sound emerges, only a long, rattling breath. His lungs tangibly deflate and this was a bad idea, Finn’s brain tells him but it's like it's floating above him somewhere. Finn’s vision swims and he wobbles to the corridor, his door closing behind him automatically. He is so cold, even more so now he's out of his bed, all over except that little point of warmth that took permanent residence near Finn’s heart and he latches to it, but the cold is spreading and surely it will soon kill that little spark and he'll be cold forever just like he was in that forest, just like Karé’s dead body.

But that was a dream, just a nightmare, he's safe, First Order can't reach him here, Finn reasons with himself.

But then why _is_ he so cold?

Finn has to, he has to…

He doesn't know how he gets there, if he walked or crawled, but suddenly he's in front of Poe’s door.

The base is still completely quiet and empty around him, everybody asleep (or dead) and obviously he can't wake up Poe, no matter how cold he feels. Finn will never do anything to anger Poe. He'll just rest her for a while, catch his breath (what was the last time he took a proper breath?), and he'll go back to his empty room and then he'll go back to sleep like a reasonable adult and in the morning everything will be better (will it?) because that was just a nightmare. (But how can he be sure?)

The dreams and reality are blending together and Finn is choking. He musts make some noise, eventually (was he standing there few minutes of few hours?) because the door Finn was leaning on opens and he tumbles right into the arms of Poe Dameron.

“Finn!” Poe exclaims, surprised. Then he has a closer look at the man in his arms and his voice turns horrified, his grasp on Finn tight. “Stars, Finn…”

Finn would like to apologise, tell Poe he's alright, that he's just being stupid over a silly dream, but his voice is still lost. Poe drags him inside, closing the door and then pulls him toward the bed. Finn goes, tripping over his feet, and he really, really should be apologising and getting the hell out of here, but Poe is blessedly warm and hearing his voice and breath, the little sounds of life, is endlessly comforting, and Finn already disturbed Poe’s rest, so what is few minutes more? Just few minutes. Then he'll go.

Poe deposits him on the bed, gently, and kneels in front of him, picking up his hands.

“Stars, Finn,” he repeats. “You're as cold as ice.”

He drops his hands briefly, reaching behind Finn’s back to pick up his blanket and drawing it over Finn’s shoulders and then holding his hands again, rubbing them in effort to warm Finn up.

And it's good, so good, but the thing is, Finn doesn't deserve this. Traitor Finn, coward Finn, Finn who's been nothing but burden to the Resistance surely doesn't deserve this. It's enough that he's broken and useless - the least he could do is to deal with his shit alone, instead of disturbing the Captain of Resistance’s fleet in the middle of the night. If he can't do even that, the Resistance could happily drop him off at the closest First Order outpost, because what use is he?

And small part of Finn’s brain is telling him he's being completely unreasonable, but it's drown in all the anger and self-pity.

Finn chokes on a sob and all the air he's managed to draw in is gone again.

“Finn, Finn, it's okay. It's okay, you're okay, oh darling…” Poe sounds a bit panicked, but then he takes a deep breath and draws Finn’s hands to his chest.

“Finn, breathe,” he says with calm that even in Finn’s current muddled state sounds forced, but with a decisiveness of a commanding officer, which is simultaneously familiar and terrifying to Finn. “Just breathe darling. Like me. In. Out. In. Out. Like that. Can you do this for me?”

And Finn can indeed feel Poe’s deep breaths, and of course he can do this. He copies Poe and for a while they just sit and breathe together, Poe murmuring softly to him, until Finn’s head stops spinning and he doesn't feel like he's going to pass out anymore. The terror of nightmare still lingers, now joined by dozens of other emotions Finn can't even begin to decipher, but he's much warmer and _he can breathe_. Air is amazing.

Finn tries to draw back, ashamed, but Poe doesn't let go.

“Better?” he asks, looking up to Finn’s face with soft eyes and a sweet smile.

Finn nods. He tries to avoid looking Poe in the eye, but Poe angles his face so Finn can't really avoid it.

“Good. I'm glad. You scared me.”

Poe lets go of Finn’s hands and moves to sit next to him, pressing close and Finn probably shouldn't be as grateful for the physical contact as he is, but, well. He already made an idiot out of himself, so he might as well just go the full way. He puts his head on Poe’s shoulder, snuggling into the blanket and closes his eyes.

“Sorry. And thank you. And… Sorry again.”

“Not to worry,” Poe puts his arm around Finn. “You wanna talk about it?”

“It was just a stupid nightmare. I'll go. I… I'm going,” Finn suddenly remembers he promised himself just few minutes and those must be long gone, and he sits up quickly, trying to untangle himself from the blanket. However, Poe doesn't let him go so easily.

“No rush,” he says, holding the blanket on Finn’s shoulders. “You're still shivering.”

And, huh, Finn is indeed shivering. He hardly noticed.

“It’s okay,” Poe says. “You can stay.”

Now that the adrenaline is fading from his system, Finn is very, very tired. A little part of his brain whispers to him that he should go, he should return to his room, but a little ball of light and warmth dances around his heart in slow, calming circles, and _he is so tired_.

When Poe pulls him down to lie by his side, Finn doesn’t protest. Poe draws covers over them, lies so they don’t quite touch but Finn can still feel his warmth. Finn’s eyes slid closed without his approval and Poe’s quiet, even breaths send him to sleep faster than any lullaby ever could.

The nightmares don’t return.

 

* * *

 

There are times, when Finn’s mind rebels against him, bringing up memories and thoughts that are painful and the harder Finn tries to bury them, the more solid they become, until he can almost taste their flavour, breathe their scent. He always thought this was one of his many failures as a Stormtrooper, but now that he’s with the bright, wonderfully human Resistance, he starts to think that this is just another sign of humanity.

Who knew that humanity had all these less than delightful sides.

When he wakes up with Poe’s arm across his shoulders, warm and rested and utterly content, he remembers Nova, first time in years, and how she crawled into his bed sometimes and how they never talked about it in the morning. How that made him feel soft, almost liquid in comfort, like eM’s rare hugs, and only now, years later in the embrace of a rebel pilot he barely knows, in the middle of an enemy base full of strangers, Finn identifies that feeling as home and family. It also makes something behind his ribs sting and he wonders if he could be homesick for home he never had.

Poe doesn’t talk about this either, but unlike Nova, he’s cheerful and joking on the way to mess. His silence isn’t born of fear of punishment or embarrassment like Nova’s was, but because he has no need to talk about it. For Poe, kindness and comfort and closeness to another human being are matter of course.

For Finn, it’s a rare gift, one he promises himself he will not abuse.

However, three sleepless nights later he’s back at Poe’s door. The pilot doesn’t say a word of refusal while he pulls Finn to his bed again.

Finn sleeps and tries very hard not to think of how Nova was eventually pulled away from him, because Stormtroopers don’t deserve friends or kindness or home.

 

* * *

 

After few weeks of the bags under Finn’s eyes growing and his appearances at Poe’s door in the middle of night becoming a common occurrence when Finn inevitably succumbs to his exhaustion and the nightmares drive him out of sleep cold and breathless, Poe invites Finn to move in with him.

“Sorry, buddy,” he says cheerfully. “I know I promised you the hero treatment, but the base is getting full with all these new recruits and we need to start doubling up where we can.”

And it’s true, the Resistance has more members than ever before, now even slightly more than the General was expecting when they were choosing their base. Some of the first arrivals came while Finn was still asleep, most of them former New Republic fleet that suddenly found themselves without a job, but full of righteous anger that needed to be directed somewhere. Some are still coming, every day there’s new ship or a call from distant planet for a pick-up and Finn knows the space is becoming a bit cramped and that this is another reason why the Resistance should relocate, before it truly becomes a problem. But Finn also knows that right now it’s not something they can’t handle and all the senior officer still have rooms for themselves.

Finn might be as well from a different galaxy for how different his life has been from Poe’s, but he knows a lie when he sees it.

He appreciates it nonetheless.

 

* * *

 

Four weeks after Finn is released from the med-bay, Poe goes on a mission.

“I’ll be back for dinner,” he double and triple assures Finn, probably thinking Finn is afraid of sleeping alone, but that is the last thing on Finn’s mind. He can (not) sleep just alright, but he doesn’t know what he will do with his day without Poe to follow. He’s a bit afraid Poe’s friends won’t be so nice to him while he’s gone. He’s even thought of General Organa calling him in and telling him to leave D’Qar and never come back while Poe’s not there to witness it. Most of all, he’s worried that Poe won’t be back at all.

Finn knows exactly how many pilots died on the Starkiller, Poe’s last mission. He also knows very intimately how close to death Poe was on the mission before that.

He wants to cling to Poe and never let him go out of his sight again, never let him go and put himself in a harm’s way, but he can’t do that, so he stands on the landing strip until Poe’s ship disappears in the atmosphere.

He’s restless the whole day.

Obviously, he’s not allowed in the control room, but on her lunch break, Kaydel makes time to find Finn and tell him that Poe hasn’t missed any check-ins yet and everything is going according to plan. After that, Jess grabs him and drags him to the hangar.

“So you can help me!” she says. “I just painted my nails and need to change oil in Red Three and there’s no way I’m putting this nail polish into it! It’s all the way from Naboo, you know.”

Finn happily changes oil in Red Three - he did it many times before - and listens to Jess’s chit-chat and then Jess finds him another task, and another, and another.

“I know you want to be in the hangar when Poe comes back,” she tells him.

“And don’t doubt for a minute he will come back,” Snap chimes in. “Poe always comes back.”

Snap’s right, of course. Poe comes back and Finn runs to him so the moment Poe’s feet touch the ground so he can fling himself at him. Except he doesn’t - he wants to, but he has a small feeling it might be not appropriate, so he stops and stands in front of Poe uncertainly, while Poe’s smile stretches across his face and Finn feels more and more stupid.

“Missed me, buddy?” Poe says finally and reaches for Finn, drawing him into a loose embrace. “I’m starving. You know what’s for dinner? And how was your day?”

Poe spins in the direction of the mess hall and walks them out of the hangar chattering five kliks a minute.

He doesn’t let his arm fall off Finn’s shoulders the entire trip to the mess hall.

 

* * *

 

After that, Poe goes on daily mission quite often. When it’s not a mission, it’s drills with new recruits and when it’s not drills, it’s a patrol, and Finn finds himself alone more and more often. Sometimes Jess or Snap keep him occupied, sometimes Amara graciously allows him to join her, sometimes he forces his way into medbay to help out Thule, and if BB-8 stays on base for some reason, Finn tags along it. The little droid doesn’t seem to mind, quite the opposite. It beeps at Finn cheerfully and Finn answers, even though he still doesn’t understand anything BB-8 says.

A lot of time though, everyone is too busy to entertain Finn and he finds himself aloof.

“What do I do?” he keeps asking Kalonia everytime he comes for check-ups.

“You heal,” Kalonia answers everytime like a clockwork.

The first time Finn tried to argue with her, trying to explain how he can be useful even when he isn’t in a top condition, giving her examples of all the times he got injured in the First Order and still was able to perform his duties. But Kalonia got this look that people sometimes did when Finn talks about his time with the First Order and said:

“You don’t have to be useful to be allowed to stay, starling. You take all your time to get better and then, if you want to, we will find a job for you. That’s how it works around here.”

She rubbed his back and looked so sad, Finn never brought it up again.

He doesn’t know how to explain that he’s not worried about being kicked out, not anymore. Finn can see, clear as sunshine, that the Resistance is kind and patient and doesn’t leave its members behind, ever.

Okay, maybe he is a _little_ worried and maybe he heard some people whisper behind his back about the ex-Stormtrooper draining their resources, but mostly, Finn is just bored. And he wants to help, he really does. Finn is beginning to explore just what kind of person he is, and he thinks, regardless of the First Order, he is the kind that likes to be helpful.

He knows that the Resistance needs all the help, every hand they can get on board, if they are to succeed, and Finn wants it to succeed, more than anything. He wants to help to keep Poe and Jess and Snap and Thule and Amara and Kalonia safe, and that’s a new desire, to protect people not because someone told him to do so, or because they’re his comrades, or even because they’re the only thing Finn has, but because he simply _wants to_ , he wants to keep them not only safe, but also happy and content, because when they’re happy, Finn is happy too.

He’s beginning to think he might be the kind of person who would be able to live off of people’s happiness alone.

But he doesn’t know how to explain all of this to Kalonia, so after each check-up is finished, he asks one more question:

“How long?”

At first, Kalonia says, enigmatically:

“However long you need.”

Then, she says:

“Be patient, Finn, you’re doing well.”

And lately, she’s been saying:

“Soon.”

That’s Finn’s favourite answer, although he would appreciate a definite date.

Everytime Poe comes from the mission, he buzzes with adrenaline and excitement, his feet standing on the ground but his mind still in the skies, and Finn knows the easiest way to get him back down to earth is to let him talk.

And it’s not like it’s a sacrifice. Finn loves listening to Poe in normal circumstances, but right after a mission, when his face becomes animated and his being alight with a strange energy Finn has never seen in anyone else, Poe is truly a sight to behold. No, Finn dreads the exact opposite.

The moment Poe stops talking and asks:

“And how was your day, Finn?”

And Finn has nothing to say.

At least at the beginning there was always a new food he’s tried, a new book he’s read, sometimes a new friend he’s made. But as Finn becomes more and more familiar with the base and the Resistance, the flow of new experiences slows down and Finn’s routine settles into a familiar, unchanging pattern. Needless to say, it doesn’t make for an interesting story. Definitely not compared to Poe’s tales of quick escapes, near fights and bravery.

“We gotta find you a hobby, buddy,” Poe says.

Everyone has a hobby. Jess, for example, likes to paint her nails ridiculous colours. Snap spends a lot of time in the kitchen, baking. Karé reads every book she can get her hands on. Thule uses pen and paper to create beautiful pictures out of his head (real pen and paper - Finn has never seen it before and is delighted when Thule lets him try it out, even though his scribbles look like they've been in a horrifying accident, according to Thule.) Poe, everyone says, has a green thumb. That one confuses Finn. From his understanding, hobby is something a person enjoys, something they do for fun in their spare time, that has no effect on the world beyond them and no one has ordered them to do so. Finn doesn't understand how having a green thumb would be in any way enjoyable for Poe. Besides, he thoroughly checked, and Poe's thumbs are definitely the same honey-pink colour as the rest of his body. Maybe, Finn thinks, he paints them like Jess does her nails. And he finds Jess's painting a bit silly, but he can see why she does that, but paint only a thumb? With the same colour every time? Finn feels like he's been left out of a joke again. And he has never seen Poe indulge in his hobby anyway.

That is, until Poe takes him to the gardens.

Some people (Major Ematt) continuously complain about the gardens being an unnecessary security risk, and Finn is inclined to agree with them. General Organa (and Poe and many of Finn’s friends) argue right back that garden is good for the morale and in the jungle of D’Qar, what is one green patch extra. Finn supposes they’re right too. Any recon ship of the First Order that would manage to get close enough to spot it from the air would have to thoroughly breach Resistance’s security and then they would be in trouble anyway, garden or no-garden.

After Finn goes to the gardens for the first time, he’s completely in a pro-garden camp.

It’s a magical place.

Bigger part of the garden serves the kitchen and the civilian personnel grows plants for cooking there. The rest of it is little patches of private gardens that belong to the members of the Resistance.

Both parts are equally charming to Finn.

The kitchen part of the garden is tidy and ordered and Finn’s military trained mind sings at the clean, brightly labeled lines of carrots and peas and moonberries and endless kinds of herbs. It’s a delightful change after the more or less organised chaos that reigns inside of the Torrent Base. It’s all colourful and alive though, nothing like the perfectly coordinated and sterile insides of the belly of the First Order.

The personal part is just like the Resistance itself. It’s messy almost to the point being overwhelming, but just so. It’s wild and exciting and unexpected - there’s a patch of colourful flowers next to a curious, tall plant with no leaves but little white spikes all over, and a little bush of meiloorun fruit under a tall tree with sprawling branches and lovely green leaves with silver underside, purple shrubbery mixed with type of herb Fin knows makes delicious juice if cooked in certain way. The edges of the garden are lined with fruit trees, berry bushes and the tall fern that is native to D’Qar.

Poe has a little patch of soil there that he calls his own. It’s covered in eclectic mix of bright flowers and more ordinary plants that Finn figures serve some purpose in kitchen or healing, few vegetables and berry bushes, and even a young, tiny tree of some kind of sunfruit that is much smaller than the normal one and bright orange instead of yellow. It’s entirely possible it’s not even sunfruit, just another fruit of similar shape.

“So?” Poe says, wringing his hands together almost as if he’s nervous. “What do you think?”

And he is, dear Force, he really cares what Finn thinks about his little garden.

“I love it!” Finn grins.

Like he could not.

Like he could say anything else even if he didn’t. With Poe smiling brilliantly like that, Finn would gladly tell him that water is dry and sand is soft.

“Alright, look, these are called polonias,” Poe points at a small group of gentle violet flowers huddling by his miniature sunfruit tree. “They are super easy to care for. Just a bit of water and sun and you have to put shield around it when it gets too windy, but that’s not often, and talk to them-...”

“Talk to them?” Finn interrupts, curiously,

“Oh, yeah. You gotta talk to the flowers. Give them some love, otherwise they won’t grow well,” Poe smiles, affectionately pulling on a leaf of the sunfruit tree.

“Fair enough I guess,” Finn shrugs. He supposes it works with the idea of the Force and everything being connected.

Then Poe launches into naming all the plants in his garden (the small tree turns out to be a miniature sunfruit after all) and how to care for them, what is particular for each kind and how the plants can be used if they have any use. Finn listens happily, sitting on the lush grass, listening to wind in the trees and Poe’s chatter.

It’s clear that Poe loves his garden.

“Did you grow a lot of plants on the farm you grew up on?” Finn asks curiously.

“Yep!” Poe grins. “Lot of kids from around there won’t touch a watering can if their life depended on it, so tired from all the farming they did while growing up, but I love it. There’s something about creating life from the small seed and nurturing and protecting it, you know?”

Finn smiles.

“It fits you perfectly,” he says.

And so the mystery of a green thumb is solved and Finn starts visiting the gardens with Poe every day to care for his flowers.

He kills them within a week.

“How did you even…” Poe scratches his head, standing above the crumpled, dried sticks, all that is left from Finn’s polonias.

“I don’t know!” Finn says desperately, barely holding back tears. “I did everything as you said! Watered them every afternoon and talked to them every time I came here, and I even put a shield up on Thursday when it looked like there’ll be storm at night!”

“I know you did, buddy,” Poe consoles, putting his hand gently on Finn’s shoulder. “It seems like this is just not your niche.”

“I like the gardens, though!” Finn almost sobs. “And I like talking to plants!”

“I know you do,” Poe says again, his hand now rubbing up and down Finn’s shoulder blade. “And you did great! I mean, with the talking bit. But maybe leave the caring for the plants to me, hm?”

But the damage is done and no matter what Poe says now, a horrible thought has taken root deep inside Finn.

“Is it me, then?” he voices it, weakly. “Is it something inside me, something… Stormtrooperish, that doesn’t allow me to create things? Only to destroy them?”

“Oh, starling,” Poe gives up and fully hugs him then, but despite his sympathetic demeanor, it sounds like he’s hardly able to contain laughter. “There is nothing… _Stormtrooperish_ inside you. Different people have different talents, ‘is all. Jess, for example, hates gardens. Can’t step inside, in fact - she’s got horrible allergies. And you know who else kills everything green? Chie Tanga!”

Before this, Finn didn’t think having anything in common with Chie would please him, but he perks up at the information.

“Really?” he pulls from Poe to look him in the eye, searching for a possible lie.

“Really,” Poe promises, his gaze as unwavering and honest as always.

With the last pat on Finn’s arm, he pulls away and points at his solitary little bush of Ryloth roses, flower difficult to maintain but that Finn has taken special liking to.

“These look much better since you started spending time here. The plants do like you! You just don’t have the right, dunno, _instinct_ to look after them. So leave that to me, but feel more than welcome to drop by anytime and have a chat with my flowers.”

 

* * *

 

So Finn is left without a hobby and when his check-up is done, the pilots and mechanics are not in the hangar and Thule kicks him out of a med-bay, Finn walks the endless corridors of Torrent base.

The very first day he does that, it’s exhilarating. It’s incredibly exciting to realise he can go wherever he wants, for as long as he wants. It’s gratifying knowing he can do it alone. He knew that immediately after he was released from the med-bay, one of the reasons Poe was with him on every step was on General Organa’s orders. Poe might be kind, he might even genuinely enjoy Finn’s company, but even he wouldn’t wake up an hour earlier on his day off just so he can loiter around Finn’s room to accompany him to breakfast. Thule never kicking him out of med-bay until Poe or somebody came to pick him up in pretense of taking him to dinner or inviting him for a game of sabaac, Jess or Amara asking him for help with the fighters even though they didn’t need it - those were all efforts to keep an eye on Finn. Hidden efforts, kind efforts - and Finn is grateful for that. It’s lovely to know the Resistance didn’t want to treat him like a criminal, and reassuring to know they’re not stupid. Finn wouldn’t let someone like him roam the base freely either.

But now the surveillance is gone. Finn is trusted and it’s brilliant.

It’s brilliant the first day. Less so the next one, when Finn realises with all the trust the Resistance is putting into him, he doesn’t trust himself. It’s not that he thinks he will run back to the First Order first chance he gets, blabbing out everything he knows about the Resistance’s secret base. Not of his own choice, anyway. But sometimes he gets this feeling like Snoke sees him all the time. Like Phasma’s watchful gaze follows him even here. Like the shadow of Kylo Ren stalks him when he wanders the long corridors. Finn knows the Resistance scanned him for any possible tracing device the First Order could have placed on him. That they observed his brain carefully to make sure the brainwashing the First Order did wasn’t more literal than they thought. But Finn still feels the mark of the First Order on him. In the way he marches the corridors purposefully, even if he doesn’t really have any purpose. In the way his shoulders slouch as if he still wore the white body armour, the ghost of an Empire long lost that will trail him perhaps forever.

And with that come thoughts even more traitorous. Memories of the only life he ever knew clash violently with what he learned in recent weeks. Sometimes Finn feels like he never escaped from the First Order, like this is just a dream he’ll wake up from soon, and he runs back to his room and weeps for a loss of a life that his brain logically knows is right outside of his door. Other times, he thinks that it must be impossible that the Resistance would be so different from the First Order. Surely, they must be tricking him. There is no way such kindness and goodness exists in the universe and he lived twenty three years without encountering it. Then he finds the smallest nook he can, curls into a ball and plans his escape. Later, when Poe comes home and they sit in the mess hall side by side, Finn is ashamed for such thinking, but just then it seems like the most logical thing to do. And most often, a sudden paranoia grips him and Finn runs to the nearest lockable and empty room, looking behind his shoulder thinking someone will surely come from around the corner in a second, maybe a Resistance officer because Finn got into an area that is restricted after all and they all see the traitor in him, maybe even Phasma or Kylo Ren, because Finn isn’t supposed to be here, he was never supposed to escape them. He locks the door behind him and hides as best as he can, waits for hours barely breathing, hoping they won’t find him and put him in prison, or take him back to the First Order. He doesn’t tell anyone about this. When he isn’t scared or upset, his walks are pretty boring, but at least it’s something to do. He doesn’t want that taken away. Or worse, deemed unstable and put in a padded cell.

“It’s good for me,” he argues with Poe. “I still don’t feel completely familiar with this place. If there’s an emergency and you’re not around I can’t afford to get lost.”

There’s not much truth in that. Finn knows the shortest routes to the exit and emergency exit, emergency ships and command centre, from pilots quarters where he spends most of his time, mess hall, medbay and hangars, and he rarely goes anywhere else. But he still finds new corners and rooms on his good days and he supposes that’s something.

Eventually, he discovers something useful too.

It’s one of the slow days when Poe left at dawn and Finn doesn’t have check-up, so he ventures into the part of the base he hasn’t been to before. He plans to just follow the main corridor and see where it leads him, but then a noise coming from one of the side corridors catches his attention.

He freezes at first, not believing what he is hearing, but straining his ears, there’s no doubt what the sounds are.

Children.

There are children at the base.

Finn stands at the mouth of the corridor and his hands shake. He can’t believe it. Everything he thought about the Resistance - how kind, how good, how _right_ they are - and all this time they were hoarding children deep within their base, just like the First Order did. Selling their childhood to the war just like Finn’s was.

Did Poe know about this? Maybe only the high command does - but then, Poe is pretty high in the chain of command himself. But it’s hidden so deep in the base, like a dirty secret it is. Finn hopes Poe doesn’t know. The General surely knows, and it hurts, but if Poe didn’t, it’s all good. Maybe they can run away together. Hide on a distant planet and live quietly away from the war and the terror both sides and everything in between harbour.

But first, Finn has to investigate. He can’t just judge, run away to Poe with mouth full of half-truths. He has to know exactly what’s happening here.

So he turns and follows the voices down the corridor.

There’s only handful of doors on this corridor, which is a bit strange, and the noise is strongest behind the last door on the left side. Finn stands in front of it for a moment, wills his hands not to shake, then takes a deep breath and mashes the button to open the door in a quick motion.

Like a ripping off a plaster.

The door open and reveals a brightly coloured room with soft carpets on the floor and squishy, rather dirty furniture, and two dozens of round, innocent eyes blinking up at him confusedly, their owners tiny and chubby and frozen in a midst of what looks like complete chaos.

“What’s happening?” a voice sounds from the back of the room and then a young girl with two thick plaits and dark skin comes forward and stands behind the crowd of children, her arms crossed on her chest. “Can I help you?”

The girl doesn’t look too happy with his presence and Finn is taken aback. This isn’t anything like what he was expecting. The space doesn’t look like some sort of training facility. It’s big and comfortable and there are toys and papers strewn around. There’s no order to things and now Finn thinks about it, the voices he heard from behind the door were way too cheerful and loud for any sort of training. If this was a training facility - and Finn is beginning to doubt it strongly - it looked nothing like the one Finn grew up in.

“I… I just…” Finn doesn’t know what he just did.

Suspected the Resistance from a horrible crime, but he can hardly say that to the girl without offending her.

“Wait, aren’t you…” the girl’s brow furrows and then her face clears with a smile. “You’re Finn! You’re Poe’s Finn!”

“Finn?” one of the little girls asks.

“The hero?” a boy says in awe.

And before Finn can react in any way, the crowd of children descends on him like a flock of tiny birds, chirping and fluttering, grabbing his hands and pulling him into the room.

“It’s hero Finn!”

“He’s the brave Stormtrooper who escaped the First Order!”

“Did you really destroyed Starkiller all on your own?”

“Did it hurt when Kylo Ren hit you with the lightsaber?”

“Thank you so much for saving Poe!”

“Will you play with us?”

The last question seems to capture kids attention and soon everyone is repeating.

“Will you play with us? Please, Finn, play with us!”

Finn is pulled fully into the room by these tiny beings he could lift like a sack of potatoes if he wanted and doesn’t know what to do.

It’s too much, and at the same time, it’s not nearly as strange and embarrassing as when the command and pilots and General Organa herself compliment him. It’s the utter, unmasked joy in the kids faces, the innocence of each question, the absolute honesty behind each praise. These children have no possible ulterior motives, their happiness at Finn’s appearance is clear and possibly fleeting, until they find something new and shinier. They simply want to play and have a hero to tell them stories and beyond that, they have no care in the world.

Finn himself has never been a child, nor has he seen any children, because no stormtrooper was ever a child. He feels a bit empty inside, like he felt those first few days in the med-bay when Poe was regarding him with stories of his childhood. He’s overcome with desire, but for what, he doesn’t exactly know.

Finn looks up at the young girl and only adult except him in the room, his confusion probably plainly written on his face. The girl - unsuccessfully - hides her smile behind her hands, far from angry now.

“Sorry, I know they can be a bit too much,” she says and then she gives the kids a stern gaze. “Children! Leave Mr Finn to catch a breath! Go and sit on the yellow rug and when you’re all quiet and behaved, we’ll see if we can convince Mr Finn to stay.”

The kids listen, more or less - they leave Finn, albeit reluctantly, and go to sit on the side, but not quietly.

“Where are my manners,” the girl says when she finally has path cleared to Finn and extends her arm to him. “I know your name, but you don’t know mine. I’m Ana.”

“Hello, Ana,” Finn scrambles to shake the girl’s hand. “I’m sorry. I got a bit lost and…”

Finn trails off, unsure how to continue.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I can’t show you the way - I can’t leave them alone for one minute because they’d wreck the room or worse, run off and get lost themselves and it’s just me today because Mundo is sick and Lyn is off planet as she always is these days so it’ll be a while until I’m off because everyone takes long shifts on Tuesdays and… And you don’t need to know all of this,” Ana bashfully bows her head and looks at Finn from underneath her eyelashes. Finn is completely charmed.

“No, no, it’s okay,” he says and grins. “I get lost all the time! And I always find myself eventually. I just.. What is this place?”

“It’s a nursery!” one of the little boys cries from the messy row on the rug where they restlessly sit.

Finn turns to them.

“Oh!” he says feeling like a complete idiot in front of a group of kids. “Oh, yes, a nursery…”

Ana must feel his insecurity and confusion because she lays her hand on his shoulder briefly and explains.

“Some of the Resistance members have children they couldn’t leave behind for some reason, or they were even born on the base!” she points to the corner of the room where tiny cot full of stuffed animals is standing. “Obviously you can’t have base full of children running around and the parents can’t have them with when being on duty, so the General set up this day care centre they can bring children to. I’m one of the people looking after the kids when parents are on duty or mission - it’s normally three of us, but as I said Mundo is sick today and Lyn is also a diplomat and she’s currently on a mission for General Organa.”

Oh. Well, now Finn feels even more stupid.

“That’s… Nice of the General to set this up.”

“Isn’t it?” Ana glows.

“But you can’t go yet!” the same boy interrupts them again. “You promised you will play with us!”

“I didn’t promise anything,” Finn grins. “Ana did.”

The children let out a chorus of disappointed groans and Ana’s face is horrified. Finn can’t keep his laugh in.

Now that the mystery has been solved, he admits this is actually nice. It must be difficult for the Resistance members to leave their loved ones behind, or for their children to grow up without parents. But it must be equally difficult for the children to live on a military base. Like this, they can see their parents daily while as removed from the war as possible. It’s a neat little solution.

Finn also finds he feels comfortable in the bright room. He never really played with toys and it intrigues him. The children intrigue him too. There’s about twenty of them, aged three to maybe ten, plus the baby sleeping in the cot. Come to think of it, Finn has never played with other children either. Play was the last thing of importance in the First Order when he was growing up.

He crouches next to the kids taking in their genuinely disappointed expressions.

“Maybe I could stay though,” he tells them. “But only if you promise me it’ll be fun!”

“It’ll be the funniest fun you’ve ever… Funned!” the little boy jumps up, his little face deadly serious.

“Then I’ll stay,” Finn decides and he’s sure he didn’t just imagine the little sigh of relief Ana gave behind him.

The little boy, whose name is Tom, was truly serious in his promise. It’s fun. It’s possibly most fun he ever had.

The kids clamber all over him and demand he tells them all about his mission at Starkiller and the courageous escape from the clutches of the First Order. Finn is flustered at first, but then he discovers there’s a whole collection of X-Wings and TIE fighters and Star Destroyers models among the toys and when Finn chooses to reenact the stories rather to tell, with a help of dozens of little sticky hands, he finds it much easier. He adds a danger there and a narrow escape there like in Poe’s stories for dramatic effect, and finds something cathartic in making the First Order look stupider than it is. Hux ends up snotty and with a lisp in his story, Phasma stubborn to the point of stupidity and Stormtroopers desperately incompetent, falling to their deaths in progressively more and more ridiculous manner unless they give up to the X-Wings pilots. In that case, the little white figurines (that, according to Ana, are not the First Order soldiers but stormtroopers of the Empire, the toys became popular soon after the its fall) are safely transported to fluffy green blanket that doubles for D’Qar. One of the older girls called Maya commands the blanket with an iron fist in General Organa’s place, while two of the smallest girls care for the injured resistance fighters as well as for the stormtroopers. Helping them is Ahib, extremely cute little Togruta boy with fragile blue mongrels. Most of the children want to be X-Wing pilots, but Ahib immediately gravitates towards the med-bay. The child is so tiny but loves so fiercely, Finn thinks. When Ahib climbs to his lap at one point, Finn hugs him tight and lets himself being comforted with the feeling of love and acceptance the child carries with him. The light in Finn’s chest sings.

It’s Trisha who brings them lunch and when she sees Finn, her face lights up with smile.

“I should know you’ll end up here at some point,” she says and briskly walks out of the room, only to return a moment later, bearing Finn’s lunch too.

“Finn is going to eat with us!” Maya shouts and Finn isn’t sure if that’s a request or an order, or a fact. There’s cheers all around though, so he wouldn’t leave even if he wanted.

After lunch, he helps Ana wrangle the younger kids for a nap. She speaks now in hushed tones of distant kingdoms and brave princesses because Finn’s stories are not good for bedtime. He is completely happy with that. He sits next to little Lilith, rubs her back and listens to Ana’s tales, enchanted and comfortable.

He sits with Ana in the middle of cushions after, the older children quietly drawing or reading around them. It’s calm, in a room full of slow breaths and gentle shuffles. Finn has half the mind to drop off into a nap himself.

“I’m so glad you came here to day,” Ana whispers to him. “I’m no good at this. I like children a lot, but I can’t engage them the way you can. I constantly worry they must be bored with me. Lyn leads this place, but… Well. Now she does all the diplomacy and is constantly away.”

“Why do you do this, then?” Finn can’t help but ask, hoping he isn’t too intrusive.

“Because there isn’t much else I can do,” Ana says simply.

Finn really doesn’t think he’s supposed to question further, but to his surprise, Ana continues on her own.

“I might as well tell you. But you have to promise me you won’t freak out,” she pins him with a very intense stare that reminds Finn of Kalonia. He shakes his head silently.

“My sister was working for the Resistance. She was a diplomat and she was on Hosnian Prime when the First Order blew it up,” Ana says quickly.

Finn freezes.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh, I’m-...”

“Don’t you dare to apologise!” she stops him and fixes that intense stare on him again except now it’s softened with tears in her eyes. “I know what you did - I mean, who doesn’t? You didn’t build that horrid weapon and you didn’t press the button to fire it. Quite the opposite, you destroyed it, didn’t you. So there’s nothing to apologise for. I could never avenge Korr, but you did. That’s as close I’ll ever get to it. So... Thanks, I guess…” Ana trails off.

And Finn feels terrible. He doesn’t know how to even begin telling her he didn’t do it for her. He didn’t do it for her sister or anyone who died on Hosnian Prime, or the Resistance. It wasn’t a revenge, or bravery that led him to Resistance’s aid, but panic and fear. Finn is selfish and scared and not a hero. And it’s one thing to play the role for couple of excited children but another to deceive a girl who already lost everything to the war. And on the top of it, she’s finding comfort in a lie. In a person who doesn’t exist.

But then he hesitates. There’s anger to Ana, hovering on her chest like a cloud, so thick Finn is surprised it doesn’t choke her. And there’s sadness in her heart, grief deeper than Finn can imagine, but also fierceness in her eyes, and a bit of hope. Finn doesn’t think he’s right to crush that hope for clear consciousness.

As he hesitates, Ana goes on.

“The only thing I can do now is to be useful to the Resistance in any way I can. But I don’t understand mechanics and feel sick when I have to fly. I’m a horrible cook and I’m not very smart and I panic easily. Korr was the pretty one, the clever one. But I have to do _something_ . And when the General suggested looking after children, well… I can do this. I’m not great, but I _can_ do this.”

Ana takes a deep breath. She wipes the tears off her cheeks angrily and looks back at Finn with that intense look.

“Do you see?” she asks quietly.

And Finn thinks he does. He doesn’t think he can do anything very well either - not like Poe or Rey. But he knows the First Order and he knows how people sound when they die and he _has to_ do something. So he scrambles and stumbles and tries his best and hopes it somehow, miraculously, will be enough.

“I see,” he says, quiet as well.

Ana smiles and goes to sit with the children who are awake, helping to search for pencils and letters in a book. There is no need to say anything else.

Finn spends most of the afternoon in the nursery, only leaving when the scheduled time for Poe’s return comes. It doesn’t go without protests and only when Finn promises he’ll return the next day, do the children let him go.

“Pinky promise first!” Maya demands, stretching her hand to him with her small finger sticking out.

Finn isn’t sure what to do - Ana is no help, snickering into her hand - until Tom pulls on his hand, making him kneel next to Maya and then arranging his hand so that his and Maya’s small fingers end interlocked.

“I’m sorry, I don’t…” Finn trails off, suddenly feeling inadequate in front of the children.

It’s a feeling he got well accustomed in the recent weeks, living with the Resistance and more often than not out of the loop, but only now he realises he didn’t feel like that once today. Among the kids, he was the hero Finn and he was just enough.

“It’s a pinky promise,” Maya says, shaking their hands a little. “It means a promise that can’t be broken. Now we’re forever bound to each other in this promise like a thread of gold, and what the promise holds, will surely happen.”

And just like that, the feeling is gone. Finn understands and Maya is happy to explain and they’re all on the even ground once more. Finn grins and gives Maya’s hand last little shake before releasing her pinky.

“It’s a pinky promise, then!” he says and gives them last wave before running to Poe.

He welcomes Poe on tarmac as usual, and listens to recount of his day. And when the usual question of:

“How was your day, Finn?” arrives, Finn pauses.

“Same as yesterday,” he says, half hoping Poe won’t notice the pause, half hoping he would. But Poe is still full of adrenaline and excitement and there’s post flight checks to do and BB-8 to look after and he doesn’t.

Finn isn’t sure why he would keep this a secret. He has no secrets from Poe. But there’s a tiny worry that he would not be allowed to come back to the children if anyone knew. The tiny worry that colours almost everything in his life, that the benevolence of the Resistance, the kindness of Poe must have an end to it, and every new thing Finn finds he enjoys must be it. There’s also that realisation Finn has at that moment, that he truly doesn’t have any secrets from Poe. Or from anybody. He shares Poe’s room and pilot’s hangars, Thule’s jokes and Resistance food. His clothes are Resistance issued, his health is monitored by Kalonia and his every thought is for Poe to know if he asked. Poe and everyone else have whole lives Finn doesn’t know about, a range of experiences that are theirs only, while Finn’s entire life before is the same as millions of other boys dressed in white. The nursery, the children and Finn’s apparent talent dealing with them, Ana’s trust - those things are his and his alone. The secret of it is his, too.

It’s the first thing Finn has that isn’t anybody’s else.

So he doesn’t say anything and when he goes to the nursery the next day again, he doesn’t say anything either. It goes on for couple of weeks - every time Poe is on a mission, Finn sneaks into the nursery. He doesn’t tell Ana he’s keeping it a secret, but he does tell the children, who find it terribly exciting. He still isn’t sure why it _is_ a secret in the first place and it’s on a tip of his tongue couple of times when Poe asks him about his day, but in the end he never tells and after a while, he doesn’t even think about it. The visits to the nursery and the secret of it become a routine.

But it’s a very different routine from any Finn’s had before.

When Poe is on planet, Finn stays with him. He helps him out with the Black One, sits beside him quietly while he plans training sessions. Goes to the mass for meals by Poe’s side and joins the pilot’s rec room in the evenings with him. He watches Poe work on his garden, not allowed to touch anything, and train in the gym, not allowed to do more than light stretches. He would be sullen about it, except watching Poe practising hand-to-hand combat is endlessly fascinating. Poe is clumsier on earth than he is in the air, but he can still stand his ground most of the time. When he can’t he is good-natured about it. He accepts his opponent’s hand with a laugh and trades teases with them on a way to the showers. Everyone in the Resistance is like that. Some people are more competitive than others, but there’s no icy stares between the opponents like in the First Order. Perhaps, Finn thinks with a bit of bitterness, it has to do with the fact that there are no punishments for the losers here. Resistance has much less compulsory training for its soldiers, and people come to the gym more often voluntarily. It’s a form of fun, relax even.

When Poe is on planet, he accompanies Finn to his check-ups in medbay and if Finn wants to stay for a while to help out Kalonia or Thule, Poe either comes to pick him up when he deems Finn has stayed for long enough, or they set up a time and place to meet afterwards. Sometimes, Poe finds things for Finn to do that he thinks Finn could find fun, but so far, he’s unsuccessful. Gardening is a complete dead end, as is engineering. Finn learns the tools and their purpose easily enough and he can work on machines under supervision, but his mind isn’t wired for mechanics. He likes reading a lot, never having opportunity to do it before, and devours all and every books the Resistance offers him, but he can’t sit around for hours, his body full of restless energy that has to go somewhere. It’s the same with all the little manual tasks Poe and Jess have him try. He likes painting alright, even though he is terrible at it, and sewing and puzzles, but he can’t stay still for too long and he can’t train until Kalonia allows him to. So he stays without a hobby.

Or at least so does Poe think.

Because when Poe is not on planet and Finn is done with his check ups and nobody on the base needs his help, he goes to the nursery.

It’s the perfect hobby - it’s technically not exercise, but he has to be on his toes constantly with the children around and there’s enough chasing them to satisfy the never stopping bounce of energy inside him. There’s no one to kick him out when they think he’s too tired for a day - Ana is too happy to have help and someone over eight to talk to to get rid of him.  

And he adores the children.

He learns about their little characters and joys and worries. He also learns about his own joys and worries. When little Ahib hurts his knee and cries waterfalls, Finn’s heart clenches uncomfortably when he runs to find out what happened and only when he finds out it’s just a simple scrape, dares he breathe again. Even though, he feels Ahib’s pain and fear tingling on his skin the whole time he tends to him. When Ahib’s knee is all wrapped up and he is happy again settled on pillows with a storybook and a lollipop, Finn is happy again too. When Maya’s mother, who is also a pilot, goes on recon with Snap and the group misses check-ins two days in a row, Finn sits with Maya entire day, stroking her back and telling her increasingly silly stories to make her smile and he swears he feels his worry for Snap to double with Maya’s for her mum and when the pilots finally return, Finn hugs Snap with all his might and then runs straight into the nursery to tell Maya as soon as possible. When she screams with joy and throws her little arms around his neck, Finn’s own joy and relief spill over.

On the other side, when the children are happy and content, Finn is too. The little light goes just a tad warmer every time he steps into the bright room. When the children are slumbering in the afternoon, the light calms down and swims lazily in his chest. When they’re falling over with laughter at Finn’s jokes, it flies in circles like a firebug in his stomach. Finn soon realises he would do so much more than make funny faces and give hugs and soothe pains. More than being covered in food or paint, being kicked and wrestled to the ground none too gently in the flurry of a game, or wiping snotty noses. For these children and their happiness, Finn thinks he could carve his heart out, take out the little warm light and give it to them, only if that kept them safe and content.

He loves Ana too. The girl is sweet and chipper like a little bird. She doesn’t look at Finn with pity or blame or morbid curiosity. It feels like there are no expectations for Finn set in this place. He makes mistakes, but no one judges him. Ana makes even more mistakes and the kids find it funny when Finn messes up. It is a responsibility, to look after a group of little people, but Finn is good at it - Ana says he is a natural care-taker. And it feels great to be useful for something that Finn never had to learn, for something he simply is.

He settles into his new routine until the day he comes to the nursery and Ana is not there.

Instead, a rather tall Besalisk stands in the middle of the room (which is noticeably quieter than usually, Finn notices absentmindedly). The Besalisk turns at the sound of the door opening and Finn finds himself looking up into a strong-featured face with a stern expression.

“And who are you?” the Besalisk asks and his voice is as stern and flat as his demeanor.

“It’s Finn!” Tom pipes up, when it becomes clear Finn’s voice is - probably permanently - stuck in his throat. “You know, the hero of Attack on Starkiller? He comes here all the time and plays with us!”

There’s agreeing murmur from the rest of the children and Finn finds himself nodding along.

“Is that so?” the Besalisk says, his face already losing the stony expression. “Why didn’t you say so? More importantly, why didn’t Ana say anything?”

“Where is Ana?” Finn’s voice is finally found and he asks the most important question with a bit of trepidation.

“She has a day off. She’s been handling this place alone for too long!” comes the answer and then the Besalisk extends one of his four arms to Finn. “I’m Mundo. I take it Ana didn’t inform you of my existence, as she didn’t inform me of yours?”

Finn shakes his head and takes Mundo’s hand.

“Of course, you’re welcome to stay with us. The children seem quite taken with you,” Mundo continues and there’s small cheer from the children at his words.

Then he seems done with Finn, instead turning to Ahib who is pulling on his robe.

“Is everything alright, Ahib?” Mundo asks him calmly and Finn marvels at the difference between him and Ana, who is all smiles and quicksilver energy and looks mildly panicked every time a child approaches her, where Mundo seems simultaneously like he landed in the brightly coloured room by accident with his careful speech and slow, measured movements, and completely in his element, a general commanding his small army with certainty and seriousness, but also kindness. Everything goes just a bit smoother with Mundo in charge. The lunch is served on time and without mess, toys are cleared away before the afternoon nap and he doesn’t tell stories from his head like Ana, instead choosing a book and reading a story aloud. However, his monotone, calm voice puts all the kids to sleep faster than any of Ana’s tales ever did.  

He is almost frighteningly polite to Finn and Finn can’t figure out, if the Besalisk dislikes him, or if that’s the way he’s treating everyone.

Late in the afternoon, Finn meets the last member of the childcare staff for the Resistance, when the door to the nursery opens and a beautiful, tall woman walks in.

There’s a chorus of “Lyn!” when the children spot her and then she’s almost buried under the small bodies flinging at her without any heed.

“Hello, my babies,” the girl says, unperturbed, giving hugs and kisses. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes!”

“We did!”

“Of course we did!”

Finn has to smile. It’s obvious the children adore this person, whoever she is. Even Mundo doesn’t step up and attempt to wrangle the kids into quiet and order as he did when Finn stepped in. Finn thinks it would be pointless anyway - no one could stop the flow of love and joy that spreads like feathery wings on the nursery.

She indulges few more minutes of the chaos, before slowly calming the children down, coaxing them to sit on the fluffy yellow rug with promises of stories.

“But before that…” the woman turns to Finn with a smile. “I must meet your charming new friend!”

Finn is sure he’s blushing to the tip of his ears when her full attention is on him. She is absolutely stunning with her dark green eyes, short blond hair and flawless skin with caramel tinge that reminds Finn of Poe. Her smile is blinding like Poe’s too, and genuine.

“Hello Finn! My name is Lyn, Lyn Viber, I’m so glad to finally meet you!” she gushes, grabbing his hand and shaking it enthusiastically, but Finn doesn’t mind and his mouth stretches into an answering smile. This is much better introduction than Mundo’s was. “Ana has told me so much about you! And Poe, of course. Seriously, that boy didn’t shut up about you all the way back!”

She lets out a chuckle and Mundo lets out a grumble.

“So Ana told you, but not me,” he murmurs and Finn thinks he sounds more dejected than angry.

“That’s because you’re an old grump!” Lyn pushes Mundo’s shoulder playfully to which the Basilisk responds with a small shove on his own.

Finn would be fascinated seeing Mundo being playful after a day of his stony face, but his mind backtracks then and he realises what Lyn just said.

“What you mean on the way back?” he blurts out. “You mean you came back with Poe? Poe is back?”

“Oh yeah, he was escorting my diplomatic mission,” Lyn shrugs and grasps Finn’s arm when he’s ready to bolt to the hangars.

“Don’t bother running to him now,” she says with a little giggle. “Despite how completely _adorable_ it is, you won’t catch him - he’s in debrief right now so you would be just waiting around command center for who knows how long.”

Finn deflates.

He knows Lyn is right and there’s no point running to the command centre only to be sitting there - and being stared at by everybody who passes by - for an hour or more. He knows how long can debriefs take. But this is the first time he didn’t welcome Poe home and it doesn’t sit well with him.

“Don’t worry, your pilot will survive one landing without a welcoming committee,” Mundo rolls his eyes in a manner that makes Finn think he would get along very well with Thule. “You’ll see him at the dinner.”

“Yup!” Lyn agrees, pulling Finn toward the children. “Besides, like this you can sit with the kids and hear all about my amazing adventures! And then I’ll tell you all the embarrassing stories from Poe’s childhood!”

“I wouldn’t bother,” Mundo says, sitting down amongst the children and picking up Ahib, who happily curls in his lap, sheltered by Mundo’s four arms. “No doubt he already told him all of it. That man has no shame.”

“Oh, I’m sure there are some things he’s forgotten,” Lyn’s smile turns sly as she sits down with her long legs crossed. At Finn’s confused expression she bumps his shoulder with hers.

“Me and Poe grew up together at Yavin IV, you see. My parent’s farm was right next to Dameron’s. Didn’t he mention me before?” Lyn pulls a deeply offended face.

Finn only wonders how it is possible for someone to switch expressions with such speed, while scrambling for an explanation why would Poe forget to mention his childhood friend.

“Oh, I’m… I’m sure it’s just,” he stutters. “There was so much to teach me…”

“ _Adorable_ ,” Lyn proclaims again, grin back on her face. “I know Poe. He never forgets his friends, except when there’s too much on his mind and I can imagine you two have been incredibly busy these past few weeks.”

She bumps his shoulder again, and it calms Finn because there’s so much kindness and understanding in that short touch, Finn knows she wasn’t really mad for a second. It’s like that with the Resistance - so often people say different things they mean, their expressions and their feelings don’t match. Finn is only slowly getting used to it, but he doesn’t mind.

Lyn then launches into recounting of her mission as she promised, and Finn finds himself content to sit there and listen quietly, just like the children.

Lyn’s mission doesn’t seem to have been particularly eventful or interesting, but she has a way with words that grabs one’s attention. The more Finn listens to her, the more he sees how she could have grown up with Poe. It’s the way she forms her voice, mostly, the basic lilting on her tongue just like Poe’s does, and Finn can only assume it’s the accent from Yavin IV. But it’s also the way Lyn carries herself, how she speaks with her hands and face as much as her voice, fully concentrated on her story and her little audience. She’s warm and bubbly, but also sharp, her lightning quick wit betraying a keen mind.

From recounting her mission, Lyn smoothly transitions into one of the stories of her and Poe’s childhood, and then another and another.

Finn has never seen the kids sit still and quiet for so long, but it’s no wonder - he is as charmed as they are. He ends up staying well past his usual time in the nursery, especially knowing that Poe is on base. Truthfully, he forgets Poe is on base at all - until it gets dark behind the windows and for the third time that day, the door to the nursery opens with a quiet hiss and a much less quiet visitor barges in.

“Lyn!” Poe shouts, his cheeks red, eyes wild and hair wilder. “Lyn, Finn has gone missing you gotta-...”

That’s when Poe fully takes in the scene in the nursery.

Jayla, a Rodian girl who was fascinated with Finn’s hair from the day one is standing behind him, fingers tangled in his curls. Tom is leaning on one of Finn’s shoulders, Litlih on the other. The rest of the kids are sprawled around Finn, with Mundo sitting nearby, rocking the tiny baby Sorra. Ahib transferred onto Finn’s lap sometime in the past hour, and is dozing off on Finn’s chest. He now lifts his small head, blinking sleepily at Poe.

“But Finn is right here,” he says and pats Finn’s chest as if proving his existence. The serious confusion in his tiny voice is comical.

Lyn is first to burst into laugh, while Poe is still standing at the entrance, blinking and taking the sight in.

Soon, Mundo joins in with deep chuckles, and the children, even if Finn doubts most of them know what the joke is. He can’t stop himself from laughing, even as the guilt from obviously worrying Poe bubbles in him. But the sight of him, standing there still in his pilot uniform and with bewildered expression is too much.

Then, finally, Poe starts laughing too. There’s nothing but sounds of laughter echoing in the room for a bit and Poe’s shoulders slowly relax. He comes closer, his eyes still crinkled in glee.

“Thank you for finding Finn for me, Ahib,” he says, crouching down and reaching for Ahib.

Ahib climbs from Finn’s lap to give Poe a hug.

“You’re welcome, Poe,” he says, very seriously, and that sets Finn and Lyn off all over again.

Poe chuckles too, squeezes Ahib tight for a moment and then he is swallowed by the rest of the children, reminding Finn the first time he came to the nursery.

“Poe!”

“Hi, Poe!”

“Will you stay for a bit?”

“Will you play with us, Poe?”

“Hey, kiddos,” Poe greets them back, giving hugs and pats on heads left and right. It’s obvious they adore him, as much as it is obvious he’s completely comfortable with them.

It’s only right, Finn thinks. He can’t imagine anyone _not_ adoring Poe, and it makes sense he would be familiar with the day care, seeing that Lyn, who according to Ana started the whole thing, is his childhood friend.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, buddy?” he says, peering at Finn over the kids’ heads and then turning to Lyn. “And you knew, didn’t you? I can’t believe Ana didn’t tell me!”

“She didn’t tell me either!” Mundo complains, back to his serious face.

“Women,” Poe sighs theatrically, which earns him a slap to the shoulder from Lyn and a much weaker one from Maya.

All the while Finn thinks the only one to blame is really him, but he also knows Poe’s not really mad, able to read the shades of his emotions better than anyone's from the Resistance, so he keeps quiet.

“You did scare us, though,” Poe tells Finn, his tone more serious now. “No one heard from you the whole day and we couldn’t find you for good two hours!”

“Sorry,” Finn mumbles sheepishly, but Poe only waves his hands.

“That’s alright! I just have to…” Poe takes out his comm and directs his next words to it. “Hey Snap, I got him! Stop the search party!”

Finn blanches at that, wondering how he’s going to look into anybody’s eyes now and that starts another fit of laughter in Lyn. Poe winks at him cheekily, damn him.

“So, did anyone mention playing?” Poe asks when everything is settled and with a massive cheer, the kids drag Poe, Finn and Lyn (Mundo refuses categorically) into a game with X-Wings, something apparently commonly done when Poe visits, Finn judges from how well everyone knows their positions.

Finn learns that Poe loves this place, and loves the children, as much as they love him. There’s hero worship with no traces of sarcasm children harbour for him, that Poe clearly basks in. But there’s so much more, Finn observes when he sits on the side and just watches Poe for a while. Poe respects the children right back, values each of their little personalities. He’s warm and open and playful and Finn thinks he would fit here very well if he wasn’t the Resistance’s big deal already.

“He was always good with kids,” Lyn sighs when she sits next to Finn. There’s a tender smile on her face as she watches Poe, one Finn suspects is mirrored on his own face.

And it makes complete sense, of course. Poe is so gentle and mindful of every living being, so joyful and lively - of course he would fit here, with these little creatures who are so delicate and yet sparkle uncontrollably like fireworks.

Finn watches Poe’s smile, his hands gentle and eyes gleaming, watches Ahib practically glued to Poe’s side and Tom staring at the pilot with endless admiration, and the light in his chest blooms and sings.

“I’m sorry,” Finn sidles to Poe’s side.

“Finn, honestly, don’t worry about it, you have no obligation to tell me or anyone where you spend your time…”

“Not for that,” Finn shakes his head. “I know you were so busy looking after me you couldn’t come here…”

Fin trails off.

“Well, I could have brought you with,” Poe smiles, shrugs. “Really, I should have known you’d like this place. I should have thought of this much earlier!”

“Now we can come together,” Finn smiles and Poe’s answering smile is absolutely blinding.

“Yup!” he nods happily.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” Finn says again much later, when they’re walking back to their quarters. He doesn’t know how he’s going to explain keeping this secret, but he doesn’t have to.

“That’s okay, buddy,” Poe tells him with a smile, kind and undemanding. “I’m glad it makes you happy!”

“It does,” Finn murmurs.

Poe laughs and loops his arm around Finn’s shoulders as they continue their walk down the corridor.

“Just wait when we tell Jess that looking after kids is your hobby! She thinks children are the scariest beings in the universe!”

 

* * *

 

Finn is scared, at first, to go to the command centre and talk about the First Order. With the long, sleepless nights and the dreams he’s been having, and the days spent almost frantically trying to do something, anything, to fill his mind and stop it from wandering, he’s unsure what will it do to him, to bring all the memories forward. They seem to be a cloud in his mind, his entire life before the Resistance a white puff of smoke. It was hard enough to live in that white emptiness, but life in the Resistance somehow made it worse - it gave him colour to compare. It filled his previous life with the darkest stormy blacks. And so Finn tries very hard to keep that cloud as far back and out of his life as possible. The life on Torrent base is warm, clouds on D’Qar’s sky fluffy and colourful and ever-changing, more often than not broken by rays of sunshine. The last thing Finn wants is to bring storm.

It turns out to be surprisingly easy.

Partly because General Leia Organa is the best person in the universe, or at least Finn thinks so. When he walks to his first “chat”, as the General called it, he’s apprehensive, thinking of the metal chair he found Poe strapped in back at the Finalizer. Finn of course doesn’t think the Resistance is in habit of strapping people in chairs and torturing them, especially if they’re more than willing to cooperate, but with how difficult Finn finds understanding the Resistance, he could be completely wrong. Still, any interrogation, friendly or not, can’t be pleasant.

To Finn’s absolute shock, he’s sent to the General’s private office upon his arrival.

“Have a seat, Finn,” the General tells him.

And:

“Would you like some tea, Finn? How much sugar?” and brandishes a colourful tin and a kettle and couple of mugs from a cupboard.

And:

“Have a biscuit, Finn.”

And when Finn is seated and has a mug of tea in one hand and a biscuit in the other, the General dedicates twenty minutes asking about his recovery.

And so instead of dreaded sterile interrogation cell and a prim Resistance officer, Finn learns what small talk is, and also that he really likes tea. (which, as it turns out, is also served in the mess hall, only the pilots didn’t mention it to him, simply because it’s unimaginable to every single one of them that someone would prefer it to caf.)

Only after that the General _asks him questions_ , which is very different to _questioning_. It’s a gentle conversation and Finn gets the impression that rather than gathering information, she is testing him, getting a feel of what kind of person he is and what he’s comfortable with.

It boggles him, that the Resistance should bestow so much care and respect upon him.

It turns out he was right, because the next time he goes to see the General, their talk is much more focused. She still serves him tea and asks about his day, but she also asks him actual questions with an obvious goal in mind, although Finn doesn’t know what that goal might be.

She is kind, though, so very kind, drawing the information from him with gentle words, knowing exactly what to say if Finn seems in distress.

After couple of sessions, Finn finds he is looking forward to his time with the General. Her steadfast presence is calming, unexpecting and unwavering, if slightly mournful. But that’s good, because Finn thinks he might be mourning as well. Who or what he isn’t sure, but when he sits opposite General Organa, everything in him aligns with her and the air around her comes to cradle him as well as any planet’s gravity would.

It’s more therapy sessions, than interrogation.

Not as good as the conversations he has with Poe, though.

Finn has always known Poe is an exceptional being. Perhaps from the first time he saw him back at Finalizer, strapped to the metal chair, bended in every direction, but not broken, never broken. But now he sees the proof of that every day.

Every time he talks to Poe and Poe is kind and warm and completely without judgement, Finn thanks all the stars for having the chance to know him.

With the General, Finn is always a bit unsure, a bit scared. He thinks it’s the beast that follows the General everywhere, so similar and yet do different to the one Kylo Ren has. Where his growls and hisses, the General’s now curls at Finn’s feet and _purrs_. But it’s still there, almost palpable demonstration of the immense power the General has, and for all how tame, even warm it seems, Finn knows it could lash as much as Kylo Ren’s broken sword and it makes him wary.

But partly, Finn can’t help being ashamed sometimes. The more he learns about the Galaxy, the more he reads of the history and about the General, the more he realises how good, how strong she is. How can he admit to all the horrible things he’s done in front of someone like this? How can he bare all his insecurities, all the bits he lacks compared to her and the rest of her world. And on the top of it, how can he tell her of all the cruelty of the First Order, when she is still grieving for her son and her husband, and yet she has the capability to grieve more, for children she doesn’t even know. Finn can’t think how that could be fair.

But with Poe, every bit of information he offers, Poe takes it in his stride, and offers a piece of him, little shard of his own humanity right back.

“They made us assemble and disassemble the rifles over and over again until we could do it with our eyes closed when we were, like, six. I used to think it was fun, until I found out what the rifles are for,” he says while Poe is polishing BB-8.

“That’s awful,” Poe says with genuine sympathy and gives Finn a rag, showing him how to polish the hidden parts in the droid. BB-8 trills approvingly at the doubled attention. “I used to cheat on all engineering classes in the Academy except the ones for starships, because only those interested me. Turned out to be huge mistake when I got stranded in the mountains with only a broken speeder. It took them nearly two days to track me down, I thought I was gonna die. I never cheated again.”

 "We never had any fresh fruit or vegetables," Finn mentions when he and Poe lay together in the garden. 

"I used to hate any green vegetables when I was a kid. Just the green ones though. Dunno why. My mum wouldn't let me have dessert if I didn't eat my veggies - sometimes I didn't have a dessert for a whole week because I was more stubborn then her!" Poe shares.

"I wish I could have chosen what I wanted to do," Finn sighs wistfully looking at the starship manuals Poe has in his library. "I think it's too late for me now to learn a lot of things but I think I would like mechanics when I was little. But in the First Order they just observed our lessons and then sorted us into unit they thought we would fit the best and we were not really taught anything beyond our specialisation."

"I'm sorry, buddy," Poe pats his back. "I'm sure you could get into mechanics still, if you really wanted. I always just wanted to be a pilot. Maybe because mum was... It might be genetics. But I don't remember ever being interested in anything else."

"Nah," Finn shrugs. "I think learning it now would be more bother than fun. I'm good. What was it your dad does? He isn't a pilot too, is he?"

Above all else, Poe is incredibly attentive listener. He doesn't only listen with the absolute concentration and without a grain of judgement, making Finn feel as if he was the only important and being in the universe, not a broken boy. But he also remembers every single thing and adjusts his behaviour accordingly. When Finn mentions missing out on a certain life experience, Poe does everything he can with the limited sources of an army base to bring it to him. When Finn shivers with an unpleasant memories triggered by a sound or a smell, Poe goes above and beyond to shield Finn from it. The more Finn tells him, the more attuned to him Poe becomes. He seems to instinctively know when Finn get upset for apparently no reason, and put a calming hand on his shoulder. He sees when Finn gets flustered for a lack of knowledge and there's a new book on his bed the next day containing the relevant information. And when Poe sees Finn staring at the downpour during D’Qar’s rainy season he must remember Finn’s stories of growing up in a sterile Star Destroyer and endless snow of Starkiller and he pulls Finn’s hand and drags him outside.

BB-8 follows them, curious to a fault, but stops when Poe and Finn exit the dry confines of the base, beeping apprehensively.

“As you want, but you are missing out, buddy!”  Poe yells at it and they step out leaving the droid behind.

For few moments, Finn isn’t sure what the fuss is about. He’s standing under the open skies, getting wet, and it isn’t exactly unpleasant, the rain on D’Qar pleasantly warm, but it’s not especially pleasant either. Poe stares at him like an excited puppy and Finn isn’t sure how to tell him he doesn’t see the point of this. But then. Then.

Then he closes his eyes and realises there’s nothing to be heard except the rain. And it’s a sound rich and full and complicated, an entire symphony. There’s soft splashes in the mud and louder pity-pats where the raindrops splatter on the tarmac, like the children in the nursery running barefooted. Steady trickle where water drips of the roof and gurgle of a nearby stream, usually quiet, running wild with all the extra water, and thousands of different little sounds where the rain falls on the plants, each of them having their own unique pattern. Inside, the rain was a steady hum - out here, it’s a song.

 Finn spreads his hands and turns his face to the sky. The rain is encompassing. For a moment it covers the war and Finn's worries and cleans the world of everything sad and wrong.

“So what do you think?” Poe asks, his tone strangely nervous.

“This is awesome!”  Finn answers, loud and so joyous and turns to Poe just in time to see his face lit up like nebula.

“Isn't it?”  Poe trills and grabs Finn’s hand again, pulling him into a series of twists and turns and they dance in the rain to the music of the water. Finn feels like a child he never got to be.

When they're completely drenched, Poe drapes his jacket over Finn’s shoulders.

“Kalonia will skin me alive if you catch a cold for this!”

“And your squadron will skin me if you do!”  Finn answers with laugh, but snuggles deeper into the jacket, already plotting how he can keep this one.

It smells just like the first one, leather and engine oil and Poe, but now that’s the smell Finn associates with warmth and comfort and it's so much better.

“I will sacrifice you,”  Poe tells him playfully and adjusts the jacket a little bit. The smile on his face is at odds with the teasing, small and tender.

“Are you sure you want to sacrifice the jacket though? You remember what happened to the last one!”

That puts a shadow on Poe’s face. Finn isn't scared though. He knows now that it isn't him that put it there, not really.

Poe gets upset like this on Finn’s behalf. Finn jokes about his injury, downplays his life as a Stormtrooper. Partly because humour seems like a good coping method, partly because he needs Poe to see that it doesn't matter. None of it matters now that finished around it so so much love and sympathy. So he jokes around and Poe’s frowns lessens every day, and when they do appear, Finn knows to pull Poe into a hug (something he discovered he’s rather good at) and he snaps right out of it.

It’s no different under the D’Qar’s rain. Poe bring up his arm, palm resting gently on Finn’s back where the lightsaber scar is under Poe’s jacket.

“I would sacrifice all the jackets in the galaxy for you,” Poe says so softly Finn barely hears it over the rain.

It’s a completely ridiculous statement, but somehow it sounds like a confession. Needless to say, Finn gets to keep the jacket.

“Stop being a mama wampa,” Jess ribs Poe when he constantly accompanies Finn whenever and wherever he can. “You’ll suffocate him with your affection.”

But Finn isn’t afraid of that. (He does, however, embark on research on wampas and their maternal instincts.) He can’t imagine Poe’s presence ever being suffocating. The rest of the Resistance, with their constant touches and teasing, questions and assurances, with their swirl of confusing emotions and gestures and habits, yes. They sometimes overwhelm him, push at him to the point he can’t breathe, even with the best intentions at heart. But never Poe.

Mostly because after the first week of trial and error, Poe knows exactly when to touch and talk to him, when to hug him in silence, and when to take him to the gym so Finn can channel his anger into a punching bag or light sparring.

“I can barely keep up with you now. When you’re healed, you’ll be a sight to behold, buddy!” Poe grins from where he is sprawled at the mats after Finn had put him there.

Finn’s heart sings at the praise and he can barely remember why Poe dragged him here in the first place.

“You can’t be equally graceful on earth and in the air, that wouldn’t be fair,” Finn answers, holding up a hand to pull Poe up. Poe’s face lits up at the compliment, his ego never too big to not need more feeding, and grasps Finn’s hand, his touch one of easy familiarity and comfort. Finn revels in it, another of thousands of small things he never got to have before and it will probably take a long while until he takes it for granted as the rest of the Galaxy is, and privately thinks Poe honestly _is_ as graceful on earth as he is in the air, but maybe his ego doesn’t need feeding _that much_.

It takes couple of weeks before Finn realises he might be an attentive listener too.

They’re in the hangars, Poe tinkering with the Black One after the morning drills and Finn enjoying himself sitting next to it. He always likes being in the hangars, the big, cavernous space that could remind him of the First Order, except it isn’t clean and polished, it’s a bit dirty and rusted and generally run down, but filled with voices and laughter and music, and it creates a beautiful juxtaposition to Finn’s previous life. If he ever forgets he escaped the First Order, hangars would be sure place to do a reality check. Besides, there are always people who Finn counts among his friends in the hangars - Amara probably lives there, and there are always some pilots around, either brooding in the corner nursing an injury that prevents them from going on missions, or idling around their fighters ready to jump in at a moment's notice in case the base is under attack.

However, there isn’t always Poe these days, busy as he is with missions and training new recruits. So it’s a bit of a special occasion to sit next to Poe’s fighter while Poe runs around, tightening a knob here, checking a screw there and running a steady stream of chatter that makes the light sit low and warm in Finn’s chest.  

Finally, he hooks up BB-8 to the Black One to calibrate the fighter’s settings. The Resistance techs do it regularly with standard-issue droids, but Poe - who isn’t particular about anything else in his life, be it cleanliness of his room, food he eats, or friends he chooses for himself, as witnessed by the pitiful ex-stormtrooper that sits next to him - likes to do it on his own.

“I like when it veers just slightly to the left,” he told Finn once. “It’s my weaker side so it compensates nicely.”

That logic doesn’t seem entirely right to Finn, but Poe _is_ the best pilot in the Galaxy, so clearly he is onto something.

When Poe sits cross-legged next to Finn, leaving his droid to do its thing, a bunch of other pilots appear out of thin air, as if they were waiting for Poe to finish around the corner.

The idea of Poe’s pilots eagerly anticipating their leader’s downtime makes Finn smile. They’re all enamored with Poe Dameron just like he is, but unlike Finn, the won’t admit to it.

Soon, everyone is consumed by, no doubt exaggerated, stories of their flying abilities.

L’ulo L’ampar, a tall pilot from Duro who flew for the Alliance with Poe’s mother and later served in Poe’s Black Squadron, joins the group. He is one of the oldest, most experienced pilots in the Resistance and Poe regards him with respect, but also warm familiarity. Finn knows he grew up with frequent visits from L’ulo in his family’s home and considers the Duros part of his family.

As the rest of the group is mostly made of younger pilots, it isn’t long before they start begging L’ulo for stories from the old war.

L’ulo indulges them with an air of a long-suffering uncle and launches into a well-worn story of his squadron fighting in a battle in Cawa City.

“And just when we thought we pushed those bastards back, a new squadron flies out of the Star Destroyer!” L’ulo is saying to his attentive audience. The story sits cozily on his tongue, devoid of old grief after years and years of repeating it.

Not for everyone though.

“And then,” L’ulo continues. “Lieutenant Bey flies out of nowhere right into the midst of them and we all think she’s gone crazy for a while, but then…”

Poe stiffens next to Finn and Finn stops listening. (He heard the story before anyway.)

Shara Bey is the name of Poe’s mother. Poe’s mum who is long dead and that is one of few things in the world Poe can’t forget about. One of the few things that for years had sat heavy and painful in his heart and doesn’t go away.

Finn knows this because Poe told him. Not in as many words, but Finn is a smart guy.

He moves his hand to cover Poe’s next to his. It’s cold and Finn’s throat feels like it’s filled with sand, rough and coarse like a choked sob and he’s cold and tight too. Poe turns his palm and twines their fingers together. Finn squeezes his hand and Poe squeezes back and out of the corner of his eye, Finn can see Poe’s shoulders sagging and his face relaxing. They don’t look at each other, nor does Finn say anything. He doesn’t know what he’d say. He just holds Poe’s hand and the little light in his chest works overtime to warm Finn again until he burns with it and Poe’s hand becomes warm too. Poe’s shoulders sag further and he finally looks at Finn and gives him a small smile that Finn returns without hesitation.

And just like that Finn’s throat is free and the hangar is warm and filled with music again.

Finn doesn’t think much about it, until it happens again. And again. And again.

Somewhere along the way, Finn has developed an awareness of Poe. Whenever they share the same space, Finn always knows where Poe is without looking. It’s partly a soldier’s response, Finn thinks, to map any room upon entering and keep an imprint of it, a digital 3D map at the back of one’s head, with exists marked green, possible weapons blue and a sixth sense tracking movements of everything alive, but now there’s a bright, warm spot wherever Poe moves. Finn was aware of it for quite some time, but now it also dims when Poe’s mood does and the ball of light in Finn’s chest shines brighter to guide him to Poe’s side.

When a mission goes badly, and no one told Finn, he still knows the moment he steps into the mass and follows unwaveringly the strange sense of Poe, now tinged with cold and damp and smelling faintly of burnt forests, sits next to him on a bench, their shoulders just touching. When one of many dates that mark death of someone who was close to Poe comes up and Poe retires to bed earlier than usually, Finn follows and makes Poe tea and sits with him quietly, sometimes holding Poe’s hand, sometimes just letting their bare feet touching gently. And when they go to the garden and pass a patch full of quietly dying flowers and Poe’s shoulders sag, Finn knows that was a part of garden that belonged to someone who died on Starkiller, Finn doesn’t think for a second before hugging Poe. Only when he has the pilot locked in his embrace he falters, realising too late they’re standing in the middle of the garden, middle of the path no less and Finn doesn’t do this, Finn is a S _tormtrooper_ , he doesn’t know how to hug. But he must have done it right after all, because Poe sags into his embrace readily, sighs and the light in Finn’s chest hiccups and bounces, warm once more, in the rhythm of Finn’s galloping heart. Poe doesn’t let it become awkward too, he stays pressed against Finn just long enough that his tension bleeds out, kindly swallowed by the earth and air of D’Qar, and then pats Finn’s shoulder gratefully and pulls back, right into the conversation they were having before, easy as nothing.

It keeps happening, these little touches Poe and Finn extend between each other when they know the other is upset by something, which happens to Finn more often than to Poe, but they both notice it equally frequently - that is, almost always.

It’s like a secret language between them and Finn is, once again, reminded of Nova. Of their little secret touch they used to have. Of a language that didn’t need words for how close they were. And how that was a necessity in the world they grew up, while the same in the Resistance with Poe is so natural they don’t need to talk about it, but it’s not exactly a secret. It’s theirs, and it’s lovely where it’s tucked deep in Finn’s chest with all of Rey’s smiles, and Finn likes it this way, something he can guard and be selfish about. He thinks, with some amusement, that Poe also likes sitting on his pedestal of an untouchable Resistance hero and if Finn can disperse his sadness with a single touch, Poe will gladly take it so he can present a strong front to his pilots.

Nova was the one to initiate the physical contact for the first time, Finn remembers. She came to Finn the afternoon after they were reprimanded for a hug for the first time and said:

“I think they’ll want us to be on our own always, from now on. What about we touched our fingers together every time we meet? It’ll be our secret!”

She was smart, his Nova. And often when Finn squeezes Poe’s hand in response to a silent question, he think she would like it in the Resistance very much.

 

* * *

 

As everyone else on the base, Finn helps in the kitchens and with the cleaning, but apart from that, he doesn’t have a set role. Finn goes to the gym and helps the new recruits with target practice. He studies star maps and prints of the First Order machines with Admiral Statura and offers as much insight as he can with his limited experience from the First Order. Sometimes he still goes to talk to General Organa, and sometimes he talks to Major Ematt, or Colonel Kaplan from the intelligence and once even to C3PO’s little group of spy-droids about the First Order. More often than not, he talks to Lyn these days, because sweet, beautiful Lyn has replaced clever, beautiful Korr Sella in the role of General’s first diplomat. Lyn travels across the galaxy talking to people, important people and ordinary people alike, drawing them to General’s cause, spreading news about First Order’s cruelty to the farthest corners of the galaxy. She milks Finn for all the details she can get to prove to everyone how horrible, how dangerous the First Order is and Finn hurts and suffers through nightmares, but he gives Lyn everything he has. It’s the least he can do.

It seems like his days should be filled, but Finn still finds himself with extraordinarily big amount of free time. Especially when Poe’s off on a mission, Finn often finds himself bored. He fills his time with various tasks - despite everyone telling him that he should have free time. Finn doesn’t think anyone quite understands how jarring the change from the First Order routine, where every second of his day was filled to Resistance’s much more lax working day is. Besides, going to the nursery to help Ana and Mundo wrangle the little ones is hardly a chore. Kalonia and Thule try to shoo him out of the medbay when he stays over an hour helping them fill the paperwork or sort out the supplies, insisting he should rest, but Finn honestly finds the tasks relaxing. Little things to keep his hands occupied and his brain blissfully off in Kalonia’s steady, comforting presence or Thule’s sarcastic commentary running in the background is like laying on a sun-kissed grass outside, refreshing and comforting at the same time. It’s fun for Finn to spend time at the gym - the workout is pleasant when it’s Finn himself who regulates it and he can stop whenever he feels tired and go and relax his tired muscles in a warm shower and he often joins people training in martial arts they learned on their homeworlds, and Finn hasn’t had an idea there were so many (he didn’t think fighting _could_ be an art) and how beautiful some of them are, and he always loved learning.

Only when Poe’s on the base, Finn uses his allotted free time accordingly.

People joke about Poe acquiring another droid on Jakku, with Finn trailing Poe as dutifully as BB-8 does. The little droid doesn’t appreciate the jokes, Finn can tell by the furious whistling that follows every snicker.

“Come on, BB-8,” Poe laughs and pats the droid. “You know you’re the only droid for me!”

Then he spins and smiles at Finn brilliantly, patting his shoulder too.

“And Finn is the only Stormtrooper for me!” he says brightly.

Finn doesn’t mind the jokes at all.  

He trails Poe to the gardens even though they agreed his touch is deadly. He loves to sit and watch Poe work, the smell of fresh soil and grass in the air and sun warm on his face. He chatters to BB-8 and BB-8 chatters back, even though Finn doesn’t understand anything. He keeps saying he will learn the droid language, but so far didn’t get to it. Anyway, BB-8 doesn’t mind. Poe only laughs and tells Finn most of BB-8’s beeps are complains about Poe and the droid is just happy he found an interested, non-opposing audience.

After Poe is done - occasionally he lets Finn help with watering the less demanding plants - he nicks sunfruit or some singing figgs from the shared portion of the garden and shares the fresh fruit with Finn while they sit side by side under the big, humming tree in the corner, breathing the sweet smell of flowers.

More often than not, Poe dozes off and BB-8 powers down copying its master, and Finn sits next to them, peels singing figgs, enjoying the twinkling, musical sounds the skin makes when it separates from the fruit (hence the name) and fancies himself a silent guardian of his slumbering friends, even if there isn’t anything to guard Poe from. He looks at Poe’s peaceful face, dark lashes fanned over his cheeks and hair messy, and is endlessly, uncomplicatedly happy.

Finn thinks this is how true, pure happiness feels. Tasting deliciously of sunfruit juice on his tongue. Smelling sweetly of Poe’s orchids and Amara’s Ryloth roses. Sounding like the singing of the figgs in Finn’s hands, like Poe’s soft breaths in the background. Warm and safe like a woolen blanket warmed over the fire, it ignites the light in Finn and it hums to the rhythm of the tree above Finn’s head, glows with a steady, brilliant light of D’Qar’s sun.

And even if Finn is wrong, if there is greater happiness in the universe, he thinks for him, this will always be what happiness feels like. He tucks the memory to the safest corner of his mind, locks it tight and safe, never to be relinquished.

Sometimes though, he thinks happiness feels like muscles aching sweetly after a good spar in the gym with Poe opposite him, or cheering on him from the sides. Sometimes he thinks it tastes like the plum soup from the mess when everyone comes back from a mission safely and the mess hall is packed with people with full bellies and sleepy eyes, their low murmur a steady hum in Finn’s ears not unlike the tree in the gardens, Poe’s warmth on a bench next to him. Other times, it tastes like a sweet honey tea from Naboo that Karé has in stash and shares with Finn only, because, according to her, only he can appreciate it among the caf loving resistance crowd, and Poe teases him endlessly because of it. Sometimes it sounds like a raucous laughter that fills pilot’s rec room on the game night when everyone is safely on base and just a little bit drunk, or like the thunderous music in the hangars accompanied by dozens of voices singing with the songs, some more and some less talented and Poe’s rather more talented right in Finn’s ears. It smells like Statura’s dusty map room and like the clean air of the children’s quarters. It all feels equally warm and light and safe when Finn watches Poe play with the kids with obvious joy on both sides and when Statura or the General praise his skills in something or when Amara bosses him around and Thule makes fun of him and even when the Resistance collectively confuses him for some reason but Poe’s arm is around his shoulders tethering him to reality where his very own Resistance pilot will always come to his rescue.

And sometimes, and maybe the best of all, the happiness is just quiet and simple joy of getting ready for bed with Poe. Brushing teeth side by side and watching Poe brush his hair forever, teasing him gently about his vanity, still testing the limits of a joke. Poe steeping their evening tea and talking quietly about their days. Taking turns polishing BB-8 from the daily dust and grime and shutting down the light while the droid rolls to its charging station, powering down for the night with a quiet beep Finn now knows means good night. Poe’s smile so gentle and soft in the darkness when he says the same in human tongue.

Happiness has so many shades in the Resistance. Finn might be a bit bored from time to time, restless from inactivity, but mostly, he makes busy collecting and cataloging all those shades and that is enough.

 

* * *

 

Chie Tanga doesn’t come around.

The Rapier and Dagger Squadrons don’t seem like they’ll be leaving D’Qar soon. For one, there’s not much for them to do out in the galaxy at the moment. For two, the Blue and Red Squadrons ranks are fully replenished with pilots ready for flight, with a few trained pilots in reserve and a whole lot still in training, plus there’s still plenty of volunteer pilots joining up every day. There are talks about creating a whole new Squadron (with tentative ideas to code name it “Lightsaber”), but first it’s time for Dagger and Rapier captains to choose some pilots to supplement their squadrons. Especially Karé’s Dagger Squadron, which is the smallest of all Resistance fleet’s squads will now be able to be on pair with Blue, Red and Rapier by doubling their numbers.

And so Chie Tanga stays on base, trains and patrols with her fellow pilots, moves through corridors, eats at the mess hall and bumps into Finn in a gym once. She never says anything to him - she doesn’t really seem to say anything at all. Finn would almost wonder if she’s the same person he’s met at Dagger Squadron’s arrival, who walked up front with head high, all cold confidence and pride and hissed at Finn the opinion many shared but no one dared to voice out loud until then, clear and loud. These days though, she’s quiet. She walks close to the walls and prefers to sit in the corner in the mess hall rather than at the pilot’s table, and when she does sit with them, she’s alert, but silent, sitting at the end and listening to the conversation. Her fighter is tucked at the far end of the hangar and everytime Finn sees her, she’s working quietly, or nodding along to the mechanics. She doesn’t shout at others, doesn’t sway to the music or sings out loud like the other pilots. It’s not that she’s alone - even when not sitting with pilots at the meal times, she always has company. It’s not that she’s cold and unfriendly either - she chuckles at jokes and laughs out loud at other pilots’ antics, she listens to Karé with rapt attention, she’s respectful and nice to the officers. She obviously feels comfortable between the pilots and in the small circle of people associated with the Dagger Squadron. When she interacts with other people, she smiles always, but her cheeks get strange dark blue tint that confuses Finn at first, until he figures out it’s a blush.

Finn spends more time than he probably should observing Chie Tanga, which mustn’t do any good endearing him to her, but he figures out this: Chie Tanga is sweet, shy, quiet and respectful. She’s also hard-working and gets along well with everybody, and she’s very pretty and not particular about it the way Jess is, which makes her that more attractive, and her friends are quite protective of her any time a man shows interest in her.

And she hates Finn.

He doesn’t hear her speaking often, but he knows she does speak, and she speaks about him. He sees her across the mess head bent with other Resistance soldiers, talking very quietly between themselves, Chie lifting her pretty head occasionally sending a glare in Finn’s direction, that is equal part hate, fear when Finn calmly returns it, and strange satisfaction Finn doesn’t like one bit. He also knows she does speak, because the number of people that are openly unfriendly to him increases. And then those people get louder.

First it’s whispers behind his back. Then people ostentatiously pulling away from him in line at the mess hall. Leaving rooms suddenly when he enters. Slow mutterings spreading across the base about sharing their space and secrets with a Stormtrooper.

And Finn knows that it’s little, sweet Chie Tanga’s work, working the sparks of anger and fear into a fire.

It bothers Poe.

“I swear, I’m going to the General this time!” he says, when a ground trooper leaves shower after Poe and Finn enter after sparring together, muttering about who knows what deviations First Order taught the Stormtroopers and he doesn’t need to show off his bits to _that._ And again, when someone swiftly moves away from a table when Finn sits in. And again when a young dispatcher refuses to tell Finn some codes in a control room. Finn stops him everytime.

He tells Poe he doesn’t need anyone to fight his battles for him, and Poe leaves it be every time, because that’s something he understands.

It’s partly true. Finn doesn’t need or want Poe to keep shielding him from the world. The other part he doesn’t say, because that Poe wouldn’t get, is that it genuinely doesn’t bother him.

He was expecting the shoe to drop the entire time and he got antsy, when it didn’t. There was an avalanche of feelings and distrust that only grew bigger every day and Chie Tanga finally started it, hopefully before it got too big for Finn to handle.

He understands it. People are hurt, and angry, and with the First Order off the radar there’s nowhere for them to lash out. Finn is the closest they have to a target. And even if that’s just silliness and human nature at its worst, they’re right not to trust him, unlike General Organa. He _did_ belong to the enemy and he _is_ a traitor and a killer. Honestly, the implicit trust the General places in him is a little bit ridiculous. Even with the excuse of the Force whispering to her Finn’s secrets, if he had any.

What he has to do is to work hard and gain their trust. Their respect. It’s like doctor Kalonia said the very first day he woke up - respect has to be earned. This isn’t the First Order, where respect is inherent, expected and given to some, while forever refused to others. Finn is glad for that. He wouldn’t have it any other way. And some of the comments might hurt him, and above everything, it pains him that Chie Tanga, who seems like a genuinely nice, kind person that everyone likes, harbors so much hate for him that she mobilises an entire movement against him, but it’s all okay at the end of the day. It’s only fair he has to work for his place in the Resistance.

His friends don’t bring the new situation up, either because Poe told them not to, or because they didn’t really notice, or because they don’t know how to broach the subject. It’s Admiral Statura, who brings it up.

“So,” he says while they’re charting maps and while he keeps his tone casual, Finn immediately knows something’s up. “Chie’s been causing you bit of a grief, huh?”

Finn shrugs. “Nothing I can’t handle. Nothing anyone else should be handling for me,” he gives Stature a pointed glare, maybe a bit too daring to give a commanding officer, but Statura only smirks.

“How noble,” he says. “Would you look at this star here? You think it’s big enough we could use its gravitational pull to accelerate smaller ship’s speed to hop few parsecs before making another hyperspace jump a bit further? That would definitely confuse First Order’s scanners and make supplies runs a lot faster if we could do a jump-break here instead of going the other way around Bothawui.”

Finn bends over the star marked as Katinla, calculations already running in his head. More importantly, he tries to envision the star, how it feels from it’s position on the map, from the name people have given it generations ago. Is it welcoming, malicious, bored? Finn finds he can envision these things quite well - he calls it a gut instinct, even though he knows it’s not quite that, but he doesn’t know how to explain it. What is important is that it works and Statura and the General and slowly most of the high command trust it. The rest, Finn thinks, is technicalities. The last thing he needs is to be carted off to the med-bay when he tries to explain to someone what surely is just some form of insanity.

That works in their favour.

Occasionally Finn wonders what will happen when it stops working.

He and Statura count and measure the rest of the afternoon away, Finn feeling things around, touching planets and stars parsecs away with invisible fingers and at the end of the day, they have few new paths planned for Snap to recon and see if they work as well in reality as they do on simulations.

All in all, it’s a successful day, partly because of the work well done, mostly because Finn thinks he managed to get Statura off his case.

That is, until he goes to leave and Statura sits down and calls to Finn.

“Finn, wait please.”

“Yes, sir?” Finn turns around rather reluctantly, but dutifully straightens and focuses on Statura.

The Admiral, however, frowns.

“At ease,” he says, unbuttoning the top button of his uniform as if to showcase he doesn’t care about formalities.

Finn’s spine, however, reacts instinctively to a commanding officer sitting in front of him and refuses to ease.

“Oh, for star’s sake,” Statura huffs, visibly annoyed. “We’re friends, right, Finn?”

“Yes, sir,” Finn answers, confused.

Of course they’re friends. Statura teaches him things about Galaxy and complicated math equations and knows how Finn takes his tea. He’s Finn’s friend and his commanding officer, because in the Resistance, roles like that can coexist.

“Then be so kind and stop with all these formalities,” Statura frowns deeper and gestures on a chair in front of his table for Finn to sit.

Finn sits down and makes an effort to both relax his body and hold his grin. Like the friendship with an officer, his deeply ingrained habit of bowing down to authority now comes with some fun. Finn is extra stubborn with his obedience and politeness around Statura, because he enjoys riling the good Admiral up a little. Judging by the displeased way Statura looks at Finn, he is not fooled, but he apparently decides to leave it for now, because when he speaks, the topic he chooses is one Finn would like to avoid even more.

“So, Chie’s been causing you a bit of grief,” this time it’s not a question.

Finn opens his mouth to protest again, but Statura lifts his hand to stop him.

“Before you launch into undoubtedly bulletproof explanation why you completely deserve that, let me tell you a little story,” Statura says and he looks at the table. “A very long time ago, there was a Rebel commander called Jun Sato. He was one of the first, original leaders of the Rebellion. And before he threw himself into the fight against the Empire, he had a little boy. For the boy’s security, he took his mother’s name. Jun Sato was everything Rebellion admired - fearless but cunning, tireless in his efforts, never shying away from a danger, always ready to protect those under his command. A great leader capable of convoluted plans as well as having amazing gut instinct. Many said, he had a touch of the Force in him. And above all, he was kind, and understanding, and supportive. He was the true spine of the Rebellion, many said. All of that was told to his son, but his son has never seen it himself - he never met his father, because Jun Sato died long before the Battle of Yavin, in a heroic sacrifice to protect fledgling Rebellion. He never saw the victory of his Rebellion and he never saw his boy grow up.”

Statura finally lifts his gaze and looks to Finn. Finn sits there stunned, his fingertips growing cold as the story nears its end.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, because he has no doubts who that little boy who never knew his father is.

Statura, surprisingly, smiles.

“As a friend, I have to tell you, you astonish me, Finn,” he says seemingly completely out of context. “Your capacity for compassion,” Statura affirms. “Don’t get me wrong, my childhood wasn’t awful. In fact, very few people had worse lives than you did and yet you never regret to feel sorry for anyone but yourself.”

Finn isn’t sure if he should blush or argue with Statura, so he compromises and looks at his fingers, twisting them.

“The point of this little story is,” Statura continues. “When my father died, I became the poster child of the Rebellion. That’s how I first met the General, you know. I was the poor orphan of a freedom fighter. The definite proof of the evil Empire. And when Rebellion on Garel bloomed, I was naturally at its center. I never even thought about it. But when I properly got into the Rebellion, there were quite a few people who didn’t think I fought for my place as hard as they did. It’s what war does to people, makes them petty, angry, makes them always look for the fight, even amongst their own. There was a lull in the battles when I officially joined in, so everyone had plenty of energy that had to be aimed somewhere and I was a convenient target, not unlike you are right now. They whispered how I skipped the ranks. Spread rumours about horrible things I’ve never done. Tripped me in the corridors. Stole my rations and blankets. Even started to bad-mouth my dead father.”

There’s an emotion curdling in Finn’s stomach, one that he can easily identify because he felt it many times, even before he joined the Resistance. Helpless anger that isn’t aimed at anyone in particular, simply exists. Scratches uncomfortably at the back of his throat here too, much less frequent but it does - when he is being dismissed by other soldiers, when he hears them whispering behind his back, when he’s met with Chie Tanga’s cold stare. But for the first time, he feels it on behalf of someone else. For his friend, for actions long passed.

Statura can probably tell, because he smiles and reaches with long arm across his table to pat Finn’s shoulder comfortingly.

“There it is,” he says, strange sort of satisfaction in his tone. “The Stormtrooper is a real boy after all!”

Finn doesn’t really understand, but Statura shakes his head gently and doesn’t offer an explanation, so Finn doesn’t ask.

“Don’t worry, there’s a happy ending to the story. You don’t see anyone disrespecting me here, do you?”

Finn shakes his head silently. He can’t imagine anyone not respecting Statura, even a younger, smaller version of him. Statura is one of the kindest, friendliest people Finn has ever met, and yet he is naturally commanding. He is a bit like Phasma, but instead of fearing him, people respect him because they love and admire him.

“That’s because I worked on it. Perhaps I didn’t handle things great back then - definitely not half as well as you are,” Statura smiles. “But I still worked hard and didn’t shy from any responsibilities, any work or danger, and soon enough, people started respecting me and I learned how to earn that respect calmly and with dignity. But as I understand it, you don’t have that option.”

There is lot of things Finn could say to that. At the end though, he sits straight and looks Statura right in the eye.

“No, sir,” he says.

Statura’s eyes twinkle at that, not unlike when Finn comes up with a new, smarter strategy or manages to calculate hyperspace quads faster than Statura, and Finn knows it was the right thing to say.

“I thought so,” Statura says, hint of smugness in his tone. “I will inform the General.”

Finn doesn’t know what to say to that, but Statura seems to be done with the conversation anyway. He starts sorting through the paperwork on his table.

“The Blue Squadron should be back in an hour. Just enough time for you to start on that book about Hyperspace Wars I lent you yesterday, I think.”

Finn just sits straighter, looking at Statura expectantly. At this point, he thinks, it’s as much a force of habit as it is an opportunity to tease some very funny facial expressions out of Statura. An inside joke, if you want.

The Admiral doesn’t disappoint. He looks up at Finn after few moments, holds his gaze in a silent battle of wills for a bit before he capitulates. After all, it was him who taught Finn to pick his battles carefully.

“Dismissed, soldier,” he says with one of the most epic eyerolls Finn has ever seen.

 

* * *

 

True to his word, Statura must have had a chat with the general, because at the next medical, Kalonia clears him for active duty with a grumpy expression.

“If it was up to me, you’re benched for at least the next month!” she’s sure to tell him, pulling the medical gloves off her hands with more force than is strictly necessary. The left one slips from her grasp and smacks angrily against her wrist. Kalonia galers at it, as if the poor glove alone was the reason Finn is being released from her protective embrace.

Finn has heard enough stories about the good doctor to know he should be afraid of her when she gets into this mood, but he can’t stop smiling.

“No weight lifting at the gym! Only light sparring!” she jabs his finger at him, as if she tried to stab his enthusiasm in the face. “You’re still in recovery and you will take it slowly! It’s more a half duty than full duty - I’m putting it all into your file!”

Kalonia then attacks her tablet, stylus flying over it menacingly, no doubt putting all of that and more into his file. That still doesn’t dampen Finn’s joy.

“It’s not like he’s going to be lifting spaceships one-handed!” Thule remarks, sticking his head into examination room. “He’s gonna be on a _diplomatic duty_ , doctor,” he adds, almost disgusted.

Kalonia makes an irritated sound, in no way appeased.

“I’m going to travel to different worlds!” Finn turns to Thule excitedly.

“Precisely!” Kalonia mumbles, her stylus scraping loudly on the tablet’s shiny surface. Finn is pretty sure she just underlined a word twice.

“Oh, she’s just scared to let her little bird into the big bad space. She’s a bit of control freak like that,” Thule leans to Finn conspiratorially, but doesn’t lower his voice and barely manages to duck when Kalonia throws her stylus at his head.

“I’m your boss,” she tells him and it doesn’t even sound angry anymore, just tired as if she had to say it many times every day.

Finn knows for a fact that she does.

Thule only grins and his lekku disappear behind the corner.

“ _Diplomatic duty,_ ” his voice carries from down the corridor, carefully enunciating every word. “Boooring!”

Finn doesn’t care what Thule thinks though. He skips from the medbay to the nursery, with Kalonia shouting:

“Don’t forget to take it easy, Finn!” behind him.

The children are much more enthusiastic about his new freedom, although Finn is pretty sure only Maya and Tom actually understand what it is Finn will be doing and the rest is just happy Finn will now be able to fully join in the more rough games, where before they had to always be careful of his back.

Finn has dinner with Ana and Mundo and helps them tidy up the nursery, then he skips off to the pilots rec room to tell them the news.

Karé and Jess hug him, one from left and one from right and Jess squeals in excitement.

“We’re a pilot sandwich! With a diplomat in the middle!”

Amara giggles so much she can’t even congratulate Finn.

Snap slaps his shoulder as per usual and L’ulo is curious if Finn knows already where his first assignment will be and who he will be flying with.

Chie Tanga leaves the room the moment Finn steps in.

Poe doesn’t say anything for the longest while, just hovering on the edge of Finn’s space with a small smile. Only when the room calms down again and most people go back to whatever they were doing before Finn barged in, he steps closer.

“Proud of you, buddy,” he murmurs softly, close to Finn’s ear.

He puts his palm, fingers splayed for maximum contact, between Finn’s shoulder blades and lets it rest, very gently, on Finn’s scar.

“Just be careful, yeah?” he says. “I know Kalonia told you to take it easy, and I know she’d call me a right hypocrite for saying this, but listen to her and do take it easy.”

Poe smiles and Finn nods, speechless.

With Poe’s hand warm on his back, he would have promised him anything.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks later, Finn is sitting on board of General Organa’s ship heading to a diplomatic meeting with the heads of Mandalorian Houses. It’s held on a neutral moon between Mandalore and D’Qar, half a Galaxy away, and Finn isn’t sure if that’s what Poe meant by taking it easy. He definitely knows it’s not what Kalonia meant (she told him very loudly).

But Poe didn’t say anything, just hugged him very tight and wished him safe journey, and then went to give the pilots who will be escorting them his customary pre-flight talk he always gives if he’s on base when his troops are leaving for a mission. Finn has a small inkling it might have been a bit more strongly worded this time. Okay, he doesn’t have an inkling, he knows it was, because Amara told him, snickering.

It might be just as well though, because Chie Tanga is one of the pilots. Finn is pretty sure she would never put the General and rest of the crew in danger, but he was in the hangar when she got the assignment and saw the murderous glare she shot him and he wouldn’t put it past Chie to arrange a little accident for the Stormtrooper to disappear forever.

Finn thinks Chie Tanga might just be the biggest strain on his health - mental and physical - on this mission. It’s pretty straight forward. Sit on board of a starship, that has seen better days but still somehow manages to be comfortable with cheerful crew and General’s entourage, all people that Finn knows and likes, and filled and wrapped up in General’s strength. Follow the General around and be on his best behaviour, because everyone will observe him. Quietly sit, while the Resistance’s diplomats are talking with the Mandalorians. Then, his big moment. The General’s triumph card. If the Mandalore seems reluctant to join General Organa’s cause - which is a given, Lyn says, because Mandalorians say “no” automatically and expect to have a “yes” beaten from them with pain and blood as per their tradition - Finn will talk to them. Finn, the living proof of First Order’s cruelty. Finn, a promise to the Galaxy that the First Order will destroy everything they touch if not stopped. And then the Mandalorians will say yes without a bloodbath, because honour and nobility is their highest, oldest tradition, and nothing was ever honourable or noble to Finn.

Easy-peasy.

The fighter pilots escorting them are just a precaution. The First Order has been entirely too quiet for the past weeks.

That’s what Finn thinks, sitting in his cramped cabin he shares with two other guys, reading his speech Lyn and General Organa helped him draft and polish over the past week, that he read dozens of times to Poe and Ana and Thule, each of whom had a different advice on Finn’s delivery, and that Finn thinks at this point is pretty much perfect. It’s just the question of not forgetting anything, not stumbling over his words. So he reads it over and over, burning each sentence into his brain carefully.

And it starts well too. They skip and jump around the Galaxy for a bit, to confuse anyone who might be following them. Just another precaution. They arrive on the non-descript moon in the mid-rim on time, barely beginning to unload when the Mandalorian ship touches down.

It’s much nicer than the Resistance has, sleek and polished, more similar to what Finn is used to from the First Order.

Finn stands back while the General greets the Mandalorian diplomats. He’s been thoroughly educated on Mandalorian traditions, in addition to his own very careful study of Mandalorian culture and history, but he still doesn’t quite trust himself not to screw this up. Besides, he is more than content to hang back and observe the proceedings. It’s quite an experience seeing General Organa in a politician mode instead of her usual head of an army one. She doesn’t lose an ounce of her steel and determination, but she softens the edges, curves them around polite smiles and handshakes and balances the role of a diplomat on her shoulders with the same grace and well-worn comfort as she does the role of a general.

The events proceed as expected from then.

The Resistance and Mandalorians both unload their ships, build a quick, temporary camp and after the lunch is served, the talks begin.

As predicted, the Mandalorians aren’t inclined to join the Resistance, or even support it at first. However, they’re not completely against it either.

“It’s going much better than we thought it would,” Yannus, one of General’s diplomats whispers to Finn when there’s brief respite in the conference. “The destruction of Hosnian System must have shaken them more than we thought.”

There’s a flat tone to Yannus’ speech that most of the  Resistance - most of the Galaxy, Finn assumes - tends to adopt when talking about Hosnian System now. The Resistance can’t be stopped in mourning, they have to use it to their advantage. The strategists and diplomats in particular had to learn very quickly not to be emotional about it - and Finn would think it cold, if he didn’t know the loss still genuinely pains them. But they can’t let that stop them; not when there’s many more worlds, many more lives that could be destroyed if the Resistance stopped fighting.

“If this is positive, I don’t want to see what a bad conference with Mandalore looks like,” Finn grins.

“All I say is, normally the guns would be drawn at this point,” Yannus grins back before they go back to their seats.

For a while it seems like the General won’t even have to draw her secret card, aka Finn. But halfway through the negotiations Finn notices an old man staring at him. He sits at the Mandalorian side of the table and from his position and intricacies of his armour Finn judges he must be quite high up in the Mandalore hierarchy. The man watches Finn with hard, silver eyes sitting deep in his wrinkled face. His gaze isn’t unkind, but slightly unnerving still. It reminds Finn of Statura, smart and curious and slightly calculating.

There’s an air of importance around this man, even without the honourable position at the table, even if he himself seems almost disinterested in the proceedings. That is until a lull in the conversation, when he speaks His voice is quiet and strong, echoing in the sudden silence. Oh yes, Finn thinks, this man is definitely important.

“Enough of this,” he says. “We all know why we’re here - the Mandalore is curious about what the Stormtrooper has to say.”

And there it is. Finn’s moment to shine.

He quickly looks at the General, purposefully avoiding the corner where Chie Tanga is scowling at him, and when the General gives him a nod, he stands up. Tidies his papers. Clears his throat. Takes a deep breath. And he speaks.

“Olarom,” he begins respectfully with the Mandalorian greeting. “My name is Finn of the Resistance, formerly of the First Order. I thank you for your attention and patience. I have seen the danger the First Order possesses and I cannot stress enough that it is of utmost importance that, uh…”

Finn think it’s going splendidly but it only takes a moment in his speech when he pauses to look for a word on his paper for the old Mandalorian to stop him.

“Enough, boy,” he says. “We’ve been listening to General Organa’s pretty words for the past three hours. And even if I must agree that she is a master with her words, Mandalore doesn’t deal in honeyed diplomacy. We want to hear you. What do you have to say?”

Finn wavers.

He looks across the room into the hard grey eyes that promise him a battle.

And suddenly he’s reminded of a different man standing across from Finn on snowy plains of Starkiller base, with the same strength and determination and kindness in blind eyes that also promised Finn a battle. Oh, how right that dying man was, Finn thinks. He didn’t think of him in years but now that he remembers, he realises something his nine year old self couldn’t comprehend - what are battles good for if not for winning? He learnt a lot since then, about life and about the Force, and saw the challenge of a fight many times and barely ever backed down. He won’t back down now either. Not when it matters.

He lays down his papers.

“Truly, my name, name that the First Order has given me, is FN-2187, because the First Order has no use for names,” he says. “The First Order has no use for mercy or honour or nobility. It only has use for a fight, and soldiers. And I understand that is something Mandalore can respect. More than words or diplomacy, anyway. But the First Order has no use for anything that is worth fighting for. It doesn’t know compromise, or diplomacy, yes, but it also doesn’t know tradition, or respect, or family. The first moment your loyalty to them wavers, they won’t imprison your men or execute your leaders. They will torture your men and slaughter your women and children. They will melt your cities with fire and destroy every memory of Mandalore and then they will turn your planets into stardust. If you don’t believe anything else, that you have a proof of.”

Finn’s voice doesn’t waver when he speaks of Hosnian System. He is Resistance now and he will turn every pain, every grief into his advantage, if he must.

The room is deadly silent. Finn has everyone’s attention now. But he only looks into the old man’s eyes, their colour like steel and his gaze the same, focus steady like a rock. But warmth lurks there, too. There’s something a lot like respect tip-toeing towards Finn from those eyes.

“I was taken from my parents by the First Order before I knew how to speak, walk, or learn anything,” Finn pushes forward. “I never knew my parents and the First Order didn’t replace my family, they just took it away. No stormtrooper has a family. As long as I can remember, the only thing I’ve been given were commanders and comrades I was supposed to let die alone in case they got injured in a battle. The closest thing I had to a mother was my unit’s captain, the closest I had to siblings were fellow stormtroopers, and I wasn’t allowed to touch them or talk to them.”

Finn’s voice shakes then, just a little bit, and he has to stop and clear his voice when he thinks of Nova, poor, beautiful, kind Nova, of eM, gentle in her fierceness, of the old Jedi who  comes to his mind again with eyes that saw nothing but heart that saw the Finn in FN-2187 before anyone else did. All of them long gone.

But Finn remains and he is the Resistance now, so he will turn every pain, every grief into his advantage, if he musts.

“I first saw a man die - not, being executed - when I was nine. He was good and he was strong; I knew it then and I know it now. He had the Force with him. And he promised me a battle - a thousand of battles. And they killed him, just like that. They made us think it was alright to kill good people.”

Finn tells them more. More than he ever told the General, or Statura, or even Poe. And he doesn’t have Poe’s kind hand and understanding eyes near. He doesn’t have a warm embrace waiting for him. But this is battle, isn’t it? He knew it since he was nine years old. Suddenly that day on Starkiller makes sense, the man’s final undefeated gaze speaking to Finn from beyond the grave. The first person Finn couldn’t save - he gave Finn a promise. Perhaps a curse. Finn always thought it was a curse, when there were more and more people he couldn’t save. Until he could.

It feels inevitable, now, that he should end here. Still fighting, battle after battle.

So he swallows the urge to vomit and keeps talking. He has to win.

He _will_ win.

He tells them about all the other executions he had to watch. About Nova, who died when she was only twelve. About endurance training, about being cold for hours, starving for days and awake for what felt like forever. About rows and rows of children told to blindly follow orders before they learned anything else. About millions of people set on destroying the Galaxy just because that’s the only thing they were ever told and they don’t understand human life has a price.

“The First Order took everything from me before I even had it,” Finn finally says through clenched teeth. “I’m not a Stormtrooper. I’m a member of the Resistance. I need you to be too.”

There’s silence. Finn can feel the shock of the Resistance members tickling the back of his neck, their pity hard and bitter like the kala herbs laying at the bottom of his stomach. He sees Chie Tanga at the back of the room, her eyes impossibly wide and her face the palest blue under the hands she presses to her mouth.

In the silence, the old Mandalorian who challenged Finn stands and walks to him.

He strikes an imposing figure, even with the weight of years on his shoulders. That might be half the reason why his move towards Finn causes such commotion. The Resistance soldiers reach for their weapons as one and the Mandalorians are much the same, whispering in confused Mando’a at the man, but the old man pays them no heed. He only waves his hand to his fellow Mandalorians and then gives a quick look that speaks volumes to the General, unbuckling his own blaster and laying it down on the table, the gesture of peace almost absentminded. His gaze barely leaves Finn and he walks slowly but deliberately until he stands in front of Finn.

“They hurt you, boy. They hurt you, so you took your revenge.”

His accent is sharp and stark. It reminds Finn of Rey, but also of General Hux. Without a doubt he know the Mandalorian is talking about the Starkiller.

“No!” Finn says without a hesitation, and it’s true. Starkiller wasn’t about revenge. He wanted to save Rey and, distantly, the Resistance. “It needed to be done. The Resistance…”

“But I didn’t ask what the Resistance says,” the Mandalorian repeats, his eyes intent on Finn. “I asked what does the Stormtrooper say.”

And oh, Finn wants to say he wants to bring the First Order to the ground. Starkiller wasn’t about revenge, but sometimes he can’t pretend he’s doing things for the good of the Galaxy. Sometimes, he’s just angry at everything the First Order did to him. Everything they took from him. Right _now_ he’s so angry, his talk pushing all his rage and grief to the front of his mind.

But that’s not how Mandalore fights, he knows. Mandalorians fight with passion, but not born from anger. They fight for honour, duty, and sometimes just for the glory of the battle.

He looks into the grey eyes.

_It’s up to you now,_ a voice Finn never heard yet he knows whispers to him. _If they join or not depends on what this man sees in you._

And so Finn looks beyond the Mandalorian and finds the blind eyes waiting for him. The body broken but spirit whole, the hair long and grey and flapping in the wind, just like Finn remembers, the man - the _Jedi_ , Finn lets himself thinks for the first time - keeps promising Finn battles. For a moment, Finn lets himself be nine years old again, and small, and scared, and the blind eyes of the Jedi are kind and trusting moments before his death, putting the future in Finn’s hands. And Finn breathes out and lets the cold of Starkiller fill him and douse the poisonous flame of anger. Finn takes that pulsing warmth from his chest instead, so completely different to the raging fire of anger, and lets that guide him.

“I might take my strength from anger, sometimes. And you might do it for honour, or duty. But it doesn’t matter, because we all do it for the Galaxy. Many died on Starkiller. And even if everyone thinks of them as the enemies, I can’t, and their voices might always keep me up at night. But I would do it again, because many died in the Hosnian System and I know no one in the First Order mourns their deaths. That’s what makes me different. What makes this side the right side. Knowing that we’re like black stain in the Force, making the hard decision and mourning forever that I had to make it. The war hurts. It’s supposed to. If it didn’t, I’d know I’m not doing the right thing. I know Mandalore believes in the Force and I know you’ve been on the Light side for years. Don’t throw it away now.”

The Mandalorian studies him for a moment.

“The Force, hm?” he says and there’s something like smile in the corners of his mouth.

He touches Finn’s trembling shoulder and the respect that was hesitant before is now a hurricane on Finn’s skin.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he whispers to Finn only before he turns back to the table and out loud proclaims: “ Mandalore is ready to work with the Resistance for the good of our Galaxy. We will outline the conditions of our cooperation now. Please, the non-essential personnel, if you could kindly leave the room.”

That means Finn too, and he doesn’t waste a second. He staggers out of the room, half-blind, and down the grassy hill, until he stops under some trees. His stomach still burns and his hands shake. Everything is blurred and only when Finn blinks and two wet, warm paths run down his cheeks he realises his eyes were full of tears.

He bends over and for a moment he thinks he’ll vomit, but he only ends up spitting some bile. He leans his forehead against the rough bark and stays like that, hunched over and trembling.

That’s where Chie Tanga finds him.

Finn catches just a flash of blue skin out of the corner of his eye, not bothering to turn his head and look properly, but he will always recognise Chie Tanga. In the few months he learned to recognise her quiet but strong presence, aura that is all fierceness and passion wrapped under a cool surface. The cadence of her light steps and the faint floral smell that accompanies her always, and he learned to get out of her way.

The last thing he wants to see now is Chie’s perpetual, disgusted scowl.

But Chie doesn’t scowl now.

“Oh, blast, are you okay?” she gasps, flutters around him nervously.

And is that worry in her voice? Wonders will never cease. More than anything, that snaps Finn out of what he thinks was just about to turn into a lovely panic attack.

He finds it in himself to nod and Chie finally finds a place to rest her hands on his back and guides him to sit down.

She doesn’t say anything. She just sits next to him for a long while, quiet, and Finn breathes and wonders if she’s being silent for his benefit.

“Did you come to gloat?” Finn says finally and even then he knows it’s not fair, but now he doesn't need to control himself, his pain has neatly turned back into rage. “To tell me I’m a murderer again? Or perhaps shoot me now that no one is here so you can be proud of slaying a Stormtrooper?”

Chie’s eyes widen almost comically at the outburst. Later, Finn will remember that moment fondly, because he never thought he could surprise Chie Tanga like this. But right then, all he feels is fury, all he knows is anger.

It curses through his whole body, makes his blood sing in screeching tones. It crawls down his throat and tastes like bile, sits in his stomach heavy and hot. It runs down his arms and settles on his palms crackling like electricity.

It’s rage that is bigger than Finn, that began when Finn saw the Jedi killed on Starkiller, it’s the rage of every single moment since then when something was lost, to Finn or to anyone else, every time the Force had to open up and take someone in, over and over again, until it got all stretched thin and Finn just keeps waiting for a gaping hole to open and take them all. And now he is part of that war that warps the Force in ways it isn’t supposed to, making army deals and blowing up space stations.

And it’s… Right. It’s wrong, but it’s also right. Finn decided, again and again, to fight. For what he believes, but also for General Organa’s smiles and Poe’s embraces and chocolate cake. For the lazy afternoons in the garden and dancing sessions in the hangars with Jess and Amara, for the hugs from the children in the nursery, and Rey’s safety. For himself, because he is selfish and he _deserves_ to be selfish, dammit, because he is a human.

And being human, apparently, hurts a lot.

“I… Didn’t,” Chie says, quietly. “I didn’t come to laugh at you. And I would never shoot you!”

She sounds a bit indignant at that, a bit more like herself. Finn smiles a little. The rage leaves him as fast as it came and in its wake, Finn is just tired.

“I know,” he says, although he doesn’t.

“No, you don’t” Chie snorts.

She plays with the grass at her feet for a bit and Finn waits patiently for her to continue. One of them has to be an adult.

“I just though…” she says slowly, like the words have to fight to get out of her mouth. “I just thought maybe you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

It’s Finn’s turn to be surprised.

“You’re being… Kind?” he says. “To _me_?”

Chie pulls at the grass angrily.

“It’s been put to my attention recently that I… Maybe wasn’t entirely fair to you.”

Finn just continues to stare at her. He wants to pinch himself to make sure he isn’t dreaming, but Chie’s eyes are on him, sharp as ever, and he doesn’t want to ruin what can only be described as _bonding_ between them.

Well, Poe would describe it like that, anyway.

“I was in that room too just now!” she bursts and Finn notices with relief that her voice is almost to her usual shrill annoyance. “I heard your little speech and I… Well. You and I are very similar, I think.”

Finn only raises one precisely disbelieving eyebrow. Chie sighs.

“I judged you too quickly and too harshly, okay. I’ve been told over and over by almost everyone at the base what a ray of sunshine you are and how unfair I’m being. And honestly I’ve known for a while that they’re all right. But just now… I think you are very angry. I mean, it takes an angry person, like properly angry person, furious at the universe, to recognise another one,” she gives Finn a small, shy smile.” But while I find the nearest target to unleash my anger on, you keep it handled. Ugh!”

Chie throws herself on her back and Finn can’t help a single chuckle. Just one, so he doesn’t offend her, but Chie just gives him an easy grin. Huh. Only five minutes in the company of a friendly Chie Tanga and Finn can definitely see the charm that has half the Resistance wrapped around her little blue finger.

“I can’t believe that I’m worse at emotions than a _Stormtrooper_!” she proclaims dramatically and Finn doesn’t bother anymore and bursts into laugh.

It might be a tad hysterical. But, well. What can you do.

Chie sits up again and gives him a smile that’s much gentler now.

“But seriously though,” she says, quiet and polite again. “I'm bad at emotions. Do you need a hug or something? I don’t know.”

“So you just came to, what? Sit next to me?”

“I came to apologise, first of all,” she answers primly. “And I didn’t really… Expect it to be so easy? So I didn’t really plan ahead.”

Finn laughs again.

“You didn’t actually apologise,” he tries to tease her a little and when his answer is another grin, he knows he and Chie Tanga might just end up being the best of friends.

“I’m so sorry, Finn,” she says, serious despite her smile. “I mistreated you and I had no right to do so. I’m sorry and if there’s anything I can do to redeem myself, let me know.”

“Well, that hug wouldn’t be bad.”

Chie looks a bit unsure at that, her cheeks colouring dark blue, but nevertheless she bravely opens her arms to Finn. She is stiff and uncomfortable in the embrace, however, nothing like the warmth of Poe, and the hug isn’t actually very comforting at all, so Finn quickly lets her go for both of their sakes.

“You are forgiven, Chie Tanga,” he says and despite everything, feels so much better already.

They lapse into the silence, until Chie lies back on the grass again and regales Finn with a quick story of how the moon above them came to its name, and upon discovering that Finn finds it truly interesting, she launches into another and another story about the moons and planets of the sector they’re in. Turns out, Chie Tanga is a proper well of little random facts and tidbits, stories and legends, and Finn, always hungry for new information, listens with rapt attention.

They must have sat there for longer than Finn thinks, because suddenly General Organa is standing above them, and she looks exhausted, but there is something subtle in the set of her mouth that betrays her contentedness, and a gleam in her eye that Finn is pretty sure is amusement at finding Chie peaceful at Finn’s side.

“Hello Finn. Lieutenant Tanga.”

Chie snaps to the attention almost as quick as Finn with his Stormtrooper reflexes does.

“At ease,” the General tells them. “Sorry to interrupt - Chie, do you mind if I borrow your new friend for a while?”

And yes, the General is definitely amused. And pleased, too. Finn thinks that she might have had a very good reason to pick Chie for this mission.

Finn never doubts that Leia Organa is one of the strongest, most powerful people in the universe. But sometimes her true power, the wicked mind of a lifetime politician, the wisdom, the _kindness_ , become so palpable Finn can taste them, feel them on his skin like silk. Hear the beast he was introduced to for the first time the General came to visit him in the medbay who since then was mostly hidden unless Finn concentrated really, really hard, the General controlling its presence in a way Kylo Ren never bothered to. (or possibly couldn’t.) It purrs now, as pleased as the General. When Chie nods tersely at the General, less tersely at Finn, and scuttles away, blushing her inky blue blush, the General turns her whole attention to Finn and the beast’s purr turns soft, mournful.

The General sits down and nods at Finn to join her. The beast curls at his feet.

“Thank you, Finn,” she says when they’re both comfortable. “Thanks to you, we reached a deal with Mandalore beyond anyone’s expectations.”

“I didn’t really… Do anything,” Finn murmurs, fidgeting a bit.

Because the thing is, he really didn’t. He couldn’t even stick to the script he and the General and Lyn spent so long putting together.

“You were you,” the General smiles. “It seems like it’s all that was needed. It also seems that it required more courage than anything else would.”

Finn twists his fingers and says nothing. The General seemingly reads his mind as always and sighs, but stays quiet for a while too.

“Finn,” the General starts again and there’s something curiously cautious in her tone. “If you didn’t want to talk about… Yourself, about the First Order… You could have told me. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. You know that, yes?”

“Everyone does tell me that,” Finn shrugs. “And I know _technically_ that’s the truth, but… No, listen, General.”

Finn shakes his head when she opens her mouth to say something and talks right over her, even when the beast at his feet growls quietly and Finn can almost feel its tail swishing against his shins in agitation.

“I know what you all mean. I know I’m free. But what I said back there, I meant it - I know what needs to be done. And I'm volunteering, okay? I know it won't be easy, but I will still do anything it takes to fight for what is right, because, well... Because it  _is the right thing to do._ "

The General looks at him. Her beast is quiet and her smile is proud.

"That it is," she says quietly and takes Finn's hand. "I'm sorry I didn't give you the space to mourn. I'm sorry I didn't think you would want to."

"It's okay," Finn shrugs, holding her hand gently. It's so small and fragile in his, but Finn can still feel Leia Organa's strength in it, the Princess who brought the peace to the Galaxy once, and moe than anything, Finn believes she has the power to do it again. "I didn't think I was supposed to, at first, and now... It doesn't hurt so much anymore."

The General gives his hand the last squeeze before pulling herself up.

"You constantly underestimate the depth of your heart, but I shouldn't have. I won't, after today. Never say Leia Organa doesn't learn her lessons."

Finn doesn't quite know what she means by that, but before he can ask, she turns around and head back to the tent.

"Come along, Finn. We're starting to wrap up and there's much to do if we want to be back to Torrent base for dinner. And we better be, I heard this morning they were planning to make plum soup tonight and we don't all have a star pilot hiding leftovers in our rooms for us!"

 Finn laughs at that, enjoys watching General Organa's face light up in humour, and pick himself up too, following his General back to the camp.

Chie is obviously waiting for them. She’s trying to be all unobtrusive and small in the corner, but her eyes are sharp as ever, focused on the entrance and the moment she sees them enter, her gaze flicks to the General, hard as a stone, and then to Finn, gentler and appraising, and then back to the General, softer now.

And because Finn has spent so much time watching her quietly, he’s become an expert in Chie Tanga, and he knows that look for what it was. Chie was worried for him. Small, fierce Chie would rain her fury upon anyone who hurt her friends, even Leia Organa herself. Because above everything else, Chie is loyal. And she does things that she believes are right, even if they’re difficult. And she never abandons her friends.

Then she smiles her dimpled smile, apparently satisfied in Finn’s well-being, and waves him over. And Finn knows in that moment that he’s became her friend. And if you’re a friend of Chie Tanga, it’s forever.

It’s a pretty good thought.

Before they finally leave back to D’Qar, the old Mandalorian approaches Finn.

“Do you have a moment?” he asks and leads Finn to an empty corner of the tent.

He seems older, more weary away from the negotiating table, with most of his armour gone and shoulders slightly slumped, but also kinder, softer in a way that still commands respect, just of a different kind. He reminds Finn of Leia Organa and when he listens very carefully, he can hear the soft padding of the man’s own beast following them. The Mandalorian’s beast is limping, but has at least as much dignity as the General’s, and twice the amount of fury, although this one is older, and calmer for it.

And when he turns to Finn, his eyes have the same steel in them that blinked at Finn from the other side of negotiating table. There’s kindness and wisdom behind it, yes, but steel first and foremost, forged of years of pain and tight control, and the lines around his eyes are deep from sadness.

Finn knows those eyes and least because they look at him every time he looks in the mirror. Eyes of a soldier. But more than that - this is more than steel, this is a cold, hard ore from a dying star. This is the kind of hardness one attains after not one but ten lifetimes of war. Leia Organa has those eyes, and Han Solo did have those eyes, and some of the older members of the Resistance have them too. And the same eyes, blind but still the same, looked at Finn across the snow of Starkiller when he was nine years old.

This man has seen the Galactic War, and perhaps the Clone Wars before that too - and yes, he’s definitely known Jedi.

“How rude of me not introducing myself earlier,” he says. “My name is Fenn Rau.”

“I… Am pleased to meet you,” Finn says.

Fenn Rau clasps a hand Finn offers and doesn’t let go for a while. He just looks into Finn’s eyes, his face unreadable. Finn looks back silently. He doesn’t know what Fenn Rau wants with him, but he isn’t afraid. He’ll just let the Mandalorian lord lead the conversation.

“Did you know,” Fenn Rau says eventually, releasing Finn’s hand. “The Stormtrooper armour was originally designed after the traditional _beskar’gam_?”

Finn is momentarily confused. He knows beskar’gam is Mando’a for armour. But only now he realises how similar the men of Torrent Company on the picture now residing on a shelf in his and Poe's room, look to the Mandalorian council members. He shakes his head.

“Yes,” the Mandalorian says. “Of course, the one you have worn would have been very different from what we wear now. Even the first Stormtrooper armour was rather different and since then the differences only grew. Originally, the Stormtroopers were meant to copy Mandalorians. They were meant to be loyal and serving to the Republic, but also noble, brave and compassionate. True warriors who would never back down for their cause, but weren’t incapable of mercy. Men with a strong moral code. I would know; I met some of them. Doesn’t seem to me that the First Order took an example from that.”

“No, sir,” Finn says, this one thing absolutely certain. “They didn’t.”

Fenn Rau nods his head.

“And yet, here you are. What makes you different? Don’t answer that. I doubt you know; I doubt anyone really knows.”

Finn looks down. He still isn’t sure what is Fenn Rau’s objective here, but he has a distant idea that he’s being praised.

“And yes, that was a compliment,” Fenn Rau says as if he could read Finn’s mind and when Finn looks up, there’s a small smile on the Mandalorian’s face, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I have a feeling you are no stranger to a feeling of shame - but there’s a lot to be proud of in you too.”

“Thank you, sir,” he mumbles.

“No need. I think there might be few good men and women among the First Order who deserve to wear this armour, and you’re one of them. The spirit of the clone troopers, of the Jedi and the old Republic lives within you - and with that the spirit of Mandalore,” Fenn Rau gently touches the centre of Finn’s chest. “He was right. You will see many battles, but I don’t worry it will destroy your soul. May it always be strong and wholesome. If you ever have need for us, Mandalore will come to your aid. You are one of us.”

“Thank you, Fenn Rau,” Finn bows, deeply touched. “Thank you for your kind words and for your help to the Resistance.”

“Thank you for convincing me the Resistance is the right side to join,” Finn Rau also bows. “And remember - any time you need us, you can call upon me.”

When Finn enters the ship that will take him home, he stands by the door and looks back at the moon where Mandalorians are also boarding their ship. Fenn Rau sees him and salutes. Finn salutes back, but Fenn Rau isn’t quite whom he’s looking for.

In the distance, a tall, blind man with a scarred face stands. His long hair is loose and floating gently around his face. It’s no longer white, but brown, and his face looks younger than it was when Finn saw him on the snowy plains of Starkiller. But his blind gaze finds Finn’s as easily as the last time.

Finn’s heart beats wildly in his chest. There’s guilt buried deep between his ribs twisting like a blade, and fear gently tapping it’s icy fingers on Finn’s stomach, but he also feels resolve.

There will be may battles for him, yes. But it isn’t a curse - it is a promise that he will see all of them to the end.

The man smiles, just for a moment, and then the air around him shimmers and he disappears.

 

* * *

 

That night, Finn has a new nightmare.

Instead of his friends from the Resistance, it’s dozens of faceless children marching through his dreams. They’re led by a tall woman in stormtrooper’s armour, but without the helmet on, and Finn watches as she leads them to him, her features becoming recognisable as she comes closer.

It’s eM, her eyes blue and hair red just as Finn remembers, and she hands Finn her own blaster, handle first, while the little troopers line up in front of him, and she says:  
“Take good care of them, Finn.”

Finn shoots every single one of them.

He wakes up screaming instead of choking and Poe is already there, drawing Finn into his arms, stroking his hair and arms, murmuring nonsense.

“Shhh, shhh, sweetheart, starling, shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay, Finn…”

Finn struggles weakly against him for a while, because it’s not. It’s not okay. Finn is okay, he’s more than okay, safe and warm in Poe’s embrace, but nothing else is okay, thousands of stormtroopers and people and planets are not okay and why should Finn be? Why should he be comforted and fed and rested, when he didn’t deserve any of that?

But Poe only hugs him tight against his chest and keeps mumbling sweet words into his hair and eventually, Finn goes limp against him, matching his breathing to Poe’s heartbeat and calming down.

Life isn’t about what people deserve and what is fair. Life is just about what _is_ . And what _is_ right now, is a war raging across the stars and taking lives and planets and there is nothing Finn can do about it, not on his own. It’s also middle of the night and Poe has a drills early next morning and Finn is keeping him from sleep.

“I’m okay,” he says, although he’s anything but. “I’m okay.”

It appeases Poe and they lie down, Poe pulling Finn as close to him as humanly possible and stroking his back until he dozes off.

Finn doesn’t sleep.

He looks to the dark ceiling, listens to Poe breathe. Imagines he can see the stars and promises to them, and to himself: Never again. Never again will he look for the easy option, never again will he be ruled by fear. Never again will he let innocent people die - not if he can help in any way. And those who died already - Finn will remember. He will carry their pain in his heart forever, because it’s cowardly not to and because they deserve it. That’s what every being in the universe deserves, stormtroopers or droids or senators or Resistance pilots. Friends and enemies. Everyone deserves to be mourned and remembered. That’s one right everyone must be born with.

Finn touches the little firebug light in his chest that seems to sing always and today its song is sad, but sweet. It’s what Finn imagines Poe would sing to him, if Finn told him what really happened in his dream.

He imagines curling his palms around that tiny, fragile light, never letting it go away.

Protecting it. Protecting everybody.

Poe rises with the sun and they don’t talk about that night, as they never do. Poe makes his usual caf and jokes on the way to the mess, Finn accompanying him although there’s nowhere he needs to be this early in the morning. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. But later Finn figures his scream must have scared Poe, because although he never mentions it, from that night, he sleeps in Finn’s bed, tucking Finn into his arms before they fall asleep and the nightmares get a chance to touch Finn.

For the longest time after Poe makes that executive decision, Finn’s sleep is peaceful, only on few occasions broken by a lone nightmare that Finn can never recall in the light of the day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so long!  
> ...wait I'm not. This is and always has been as self indulgent as it gets. I originally thought it'll be around 8 000 words (oops) so I didn't plan chapters (oops) and then couldn't find logical places to break it up (oops?) so there it is, ridiculously long chunks of text, who doesn't love it. Also, run-on sentences. Did I mention this is self-indulgent?  
> This is my baby. I worked on this for so long, you have no idea. Please love it. Even if it gets a bit sad later.  
> Also (and I should have started with this) English is not my first language and I apologise for mistakes. I don't have a beta because I refuse to dump this monstrosity on anyone so it's all my fault. I swear I'm not intentionally trying to hurt English.


	2. Chapter 2

 

_Part Two: How to Belong, Fight and Kiss_

 

 

Finn sits on the warm ground at the top of the hangars. The earth beneath him is lush and mellow and just a little bit wet - Poe says that the soil on D’Qar never gets truly dry. It’s beginning to soak Finn’s trousers a little bit, but he doesn’t mind. This is different from anything he’s ever known. The world around sings to him.

Above, high on the sky, the Red Squadron just finished practise runs and now they’re allowed to have a bit of fun, twisting and turning and racing each other. Poe shines like the brightest star among them, his turns a bit sharper, his spirals a bit more graceful, his aim more precise than anyone. When they finally land, Finn awaits them on tarmac with an applause.

“That was amazing!” he tells the squadron earnestly and pilots, being pilots, preen like tookas on the sun, their chins going up like one organism. It makes Finn laugh.

“Please, don’t blow their egos,” Brance tells him, tone long suffering, but Finn knows he’s only joking. Well, he’s pretty sure Brance’s only joking. He looks at Poe, just to be certain, and Poe gives him a wink, so Finn knows it’s all good

“Come on, buddy,” he jokes back at Brance. “No one on this base is impressed with us anymore. Would you begrudge us our only fan?”

“I would!” Amara shouts from where she’s standing next to Jess’ ship.

“It honestly was amazing, though,” Finn tells Poe when everyone calms down enough to give technicians their flight reports and they begin walk back to their quarters. Finn is carrying Poe’s helmet and BB-8 rolls before them, chirping to itself. “Nothing like I’ve seen before.”

“Flying is amazing,” Poe’s smile is much quieter than usual, private. ”When I’m up there, man, it’s like nothing else matters. It’s like flying is this one thing I was born to do.”

Finn wonders what it’s like to be so sure with your place in the universe.

“What is it, buddy?” Poe slows down, the dreamy look in his eyes quickly replaced by concern. Finn is starting to worry how often he puts that look there.

“Nothing,” he forces a smile. “I’m just thinking - it feels like I should really start looking into what I want to do in the Resistance.”

 

* * *

 

Finn might have worked in sanitation on Starkiller, but he was trained for ground combat since he was twelve and he was trained well. Next to the ragtag group of Resistance soldiers where over half of them are either Galactic War veterans whose joints are beginning to creak or idealistic kids fresh out of school, Finn is a brilliant, deadly machine. It’s only logical ground troops unit is where he finds his call.

At least that’s what command thinks.

To be fair, that’s what Finn thinks, too, when he goes to his first training and he finds out he missed this without realising, missed the structured hierarchy of the command, the familiar way physical activity makes his muscles dance, how blaster fits in his hand and he fits inside his unit, a perfect cog in a well-oiled machine. He gets excellent marks at the target practise and even with his back still not hundred percent, he manages to beat almost everyone who goes against him in hand to hand combat. He is good at this and he missed being good at something.

“Happy?” Poe asks him, grinning, when Finn meets him in mess for dinner after his first day of training.

“Happy,” Finn grins back and goes to devour his soup.

And he is. He is happy. This is familiar and comfortable - this is everything Finn was ever made to be - and if it isn’t exactly earth-shattering happiness Finn was kind of expecting he’ll feel when he finally found his place, no one needs to know about it.

Besides, he’ll be still doubling in intelligence and have regular meetings with command and Admiral Statura, things he became to look forward to, and Finn’s immensely pleased when he finds out.

He finds friends amongst the other soldiers,

Even if some of the young cadets give him dirty looks when he’s being praised by their CO Finn is almost pleased by that, because envy wasn’t something stormtroopers were allowed to feel, and yet his peers isolated him because they were jealous of him, among other things, and they didn’t even know what it was. Honestly, Finn prefers to have emotions of his and others out in the open. Even if Chie is now his friend, she did her job well and there’s hate and mistrust of him even here, and he gets suspicious or downright angry looks on more than one occasion. Finn still thinks (and later he wonders, if maybe he wasn’t thinking that a bit _too_ hard) that this is where he belongs, this is where he fits.

At least until he goes into his first battle.

 

* * *

 

Finn is in the training room, practising hand to hand combat with Yuno.

They became fast friends when Finn was first put into ground combat unit. Now Finn has lots of friends and only few of the men still give him the stink eye, but back then, even people who were not at all hostile, would give him a wide berth. It was different down here, far from the command and hangars, where there was no Poe to introduce him around, no General and Statura to watch out for him, no med-bay with Kalonia to run to and have his back rubbed when something didn’t go his way. Here, Finn had to start from the ground zero.

Yuno has joined the same week as Finn did. He originated from Coruscant, a grandson of a rich and powerful politician who died on Hosnian Prime. With his slighter built, delicate manners, posh Coruscant accent and precisely learnt K’Thri, a fancy martial art popular among the nobles on Coruscant he never had to use in an actual fight, Yuno didn’t fare much better among the soldiers of the Resistance, roughened up by life. If anything, he was teased and bullied twice as much as Finn, who at least knew how to hold his own in a fight. As it were, they always ended up paired up for spars and such. The two outcasts.

At the beginning, Yuno reminded Finn of Slip a lot, and he automatically drifted into the role of a helper and guardian. Yuno’s reaction to it was much the same as Slip’s has been once upon a time. Not necessarily pleased, but hesitantly accepted, because there’s a man’s pride, and there’s a need to survive, and a smart man knows which one to place higher.

And Yuno is a smart man. And tenacious, too.

Finn thought for a bit that Yuno will leave the ground troops after a while. Join the intelligence or strategists or maybe even diplomats, something better suited for him. Just like Slip would have if he ever got the chance. But it turned out Yuno wasn’t like Slip at all.

He might be smaller than most, and painfully inexperienced in fight and pain and _life_ outside of his fancy house on Coruscant, but he is stubborn and strong-willed, and under that aristocratic nose, meticulous clothes and soft speech, there’s a heart of a true warrior. He listened to Finn’s advices and practised twice as hard as everyone else, even Finn, to make up for the lack of experience. He never complained, never gave up, never stayed down for long when kicked. As much as accepted Finn’s help in training, he never let him fight his battles for him outside of the training room. Where Slip would hunch and cry when others would pick on him, there was always a sharp retort on Yuno’s tongue. Where Slip would take and take from Finn’s kindness, Yuno would look out for Finn as much as Finn would look out for him. When it turned out that the K’Thri, when stripped of all its flashy twists and kicks, could be very useful, Yuno didn’t hesitate to show Finn, just like Finn showed him how to throw a good old fashioned punch before. It was new, and lovely, and what started as a necessary partnership turned into a genuine friendship.

They are just winding down, having trained for almost three hours, playfully nipping at each other, when the alarms go off.

They sprint to the assembly hall and Finn isn’t surprised to find half of the troops already there. By the time Yuno and Finn reach their squadron, the other half arrives and within seconds everyone stands with their squad in a mostly perfect formation. (General Hux wouldn’t be happy with it, of course, it’s not precise to the inch, but it’s close enough to be perfectly functional.)

Major Ematt himself stands in front of them.

“We just received an intel that the First Order launched coordinated attack on several cities on Eriadu,” Ematt says and there’s a ripple of uneasy whisper through the crowd. Since the Starkiller, this is the first time the First Order has been heard of. “We are immediately launching a counter attack. You are to report for your transport in hangar C in twenty minutes. Your mission will be detailed to you by your first in command onboard, but your primary goal should be protecting the civilians. We are sending couple of transports to evacuate the most at risk areas, so you will assist with that and provide support for the medics shall it be needed. We are launching an air attack to so it’s the pilots primarily responsible for the direct fight and driving the First Order from the planet.”

Finn and Yuno exchange one glance before they’re both running to their quarters.

Finn desperately hopes he will bump into Poe somewhere on the way, but no such chance. He lingers at their shared quarters for as long as he can, putting on his battle armour and grabbing a knife General Organa has gifted to him, but he can’t spare more than five minutes puttering around. Hangar C is the furthest hangar from their room and the base is difficult to navigate with people frantically running in all directions, so Finn can’t waste time if he doesn’t want to be late.

So he runs to the transport and finds his seat without saying goodbye and good luck to Poe, and it only adds in the sense of unease he feels.

He sits on the transport listening to Commander Teller outlining the plan while his stomach ties itself into the knots and his insides turn cold. He holds the knife from The General in his hand, squeezing its smooth handle. He was delighted when she gave it to him, because not only it’s functional, but it’s pretty unlike any weapon Finn has seen before, with light carvings on the blade and porcelain white polished handle. From the moment his fingers touched it he could feel as if the General infused it with the very essence of herself. There was the smallest bite of anger and then kindness seeped into Finn’s fingers like warmth from a cup of tea, and a dull prickle of sadness too, but most of the incredible, endless strength. He tries to feel it now, harness it from the weapon and tuck it behind his ribs for later, but it doesn’t travel further than his palm, dulled by the fear Finn feels.

“Are you okay?” Yuno asks leaning in.

His soft tone is at odds with the thunderous hum in Finn’s ears. He looks into Yuno’s face and for a moment he sees it streaked with blood, for a moment he doesn’t see it at all, it’s Slip’s expressionless helmet as it was the last time he saw it on Jakku. Then the concerned face of his friend is back.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I’m fine. Nervous.”

“Nervous!” another soldier, Mede’e, snorts from Finn’s other side. “I’m scared shitless! You can say that, we all are!”

“I’m not!” a booming voice joins in and in a moment the cabin is loud with the soldiers teasing one another, joking and ribbing.

Gallows humour, Finn thinks.

He doesn’t join. He sits quietly and feels like he’s shrinking. There’s a voice in his head telling him he’s lived through this before - except he doesn’t remember it. It’s like something he dreamed and then forgot and the more he tries to grasp the memory the more elusive it becomes. Only the feeling of cold and despair and his instincts screaming at him to run remain.

They land at the outskirts of the town designated to them. It’s one of the bigger ones on Eriadu, but it’s surrounded by forests and mountains, no other town near it. Finn has skimmed through few texts on Eriadu’s geography on the way here and it quickly became obvious to him that cities where First Order sightings have been reported are all large, but isolated.

The moment Finn looks through the window, he knows the reports were true. There’s smoke rising from few places within the town. Finn can’t see any First Order spaceships and assumes they must have dropped their soldiers off elsewhere and leave the air clear for now, as their transport got to the land with no resistance.

The medics already set up their tents and build some sort of an emergency camp. They don’t seem to be very busy yet, nervously standing around, some of them holding binoculars and looking towards the tendrils of smoke. Finn walks to Andrra, a lovely girl from Dandoran whom he knows from the med-bay where she often helps Kalonia.

“Are Doctor Kalonia and Thule here as well?” he asks her.

“No way,” Andrra answers. “They’re the only two fully trained medics we have - can’t risk them in the field. They’re back at the base, waiting for the real emergencies that need to go beyond field hospital.”

Finn nods. That makes a lot of sense and actually lifts some of the heavy weight at his stomach. The thought of gentle, sweet Kalonia on the battlefield is awful, and, strangely, the thought of Thule even worse. The Twi’lek might be a sarcastic bastard but where it counts, Thule is tender like a soft boiled egg. Back in the med-bay he can cover his distress over careless pilots and wounded soldiers with jokes, but out here no joke, no cynic remark could hide the horrors of war. And Thule, Thule Sandar isn’t built for horrors.

“What’s going on, then?” Finn asks Andrra next.

“Not sure,” Andrra shrugs. “We just finished setting up and the first scouts left couple of minutes ago - no info from them yet. We’re just waiting for the civilian transport to arrive. You’re to bring any wounded civilians and those who wish to be evacuated, right? We’re to provide any medical assistance we can in a field hospital and help out with the evacuation.”

Andrra’s brows are furrowed, her mouth a tight, unhappy line.

“Not sure how much we’ll be able to help. This is the most basic field hospital you can possibly have. If you see any medical supplies laying about, be a dear, pick it up and bring it to us?” she says. “We might not know what the situation is like yet, but judging from that smoke, there’ll be more wounded than we can take care of.”

“But what are they doing?” Yuno, who stood by Finn’s side silently absorbing information the whole time, asks. “This just doesn’t make sense. Eriadu isn’t strategic position, they don’t have anything valuable the First Order could want… Is this just a provocation?”

“Could be…” Andrra scratches her ear.

“Or a trap…” Finn says darkly.

“Great!” Yuno sighs and then they have to quickly bid goodbye to Andrra and run back to their squadron.

They’re sorted into groups of four and sent into the city.

“Remember, don’t engage unless you really have to and be online on your commas at all time,” their CO tells them, the last bit of advice. “We have sent scouts in and they’ll be relying any useful information on the open common line.”

Finn is glad he ended up in a group with Yuno. Made’e is with him too, and Devaronian Greer Jarr rounds their squad.

Finn is glad for Mede'e, too. Short, fierce Corellian woman with the most inappropriate humour Finn ever heard is Finn’s friend, not least because the tiny baby Finn often plays with in the nursery belongs to her and even before entering the troops, Finn had watched Mede’e daughter for her on a couple of occasions. Mede’e’s baby, Sorra, is the only child born on the Torrent Base. Mede’e is an old friend of General Organa and was one of the original members of the Resistance. She met Sorra’s dad, a mechanic, couple of weeks after enlisting and their affair was - and still is - intense, hot and passionate. At least that’s how Ana described it to Finn. Their arguments are legendary, but nevertheless, they love each other and short ten months after they met, Sorra was born. Mede’e loves deeply, laughs freely, drinks a lot and fights like a lioness. Despite being short, she packs a mighty punch and she is fast and flexible. She’s an experienced fighter and a loyal comrade and if Finn had to choose two people to have his back, Yuno and Mede’e would be on the top of his list.

Greer, not so much.

It’s not that Finn doesn’t like Greer. It’s that Finn doesn’t _know_ Greer.

What he does know about Greer Finn found out through observation. He never spoke to the Devaronian, because while Greer never did or said anything to Finn, before he entered the troops he often saw him in company of Chie Tanga and didn’t want to tempt faiths. From the common training time he knows Greer is decent in hand to hand combat and slightly above average in his work with a blaster. He doesn’t know if Greer is funny, or compassionate, or smart, or cruel, but he sees his small horns and bright purple eyes and passionate gestures when he talks to his friends and he thinks that Greer is painfully young, full of ideals and thirsty for a fight.

And Finn doesn’t think any of those things are particularly useful on a battlefield. Rather the opposite.

They don’t talk much at first, mostly relying on hand gestures to communicate, all of them concentrating on their comms, awaiting information from the scouts. But when no words are coming and they slowly move through empty suburbs without encountering anyone, Finn can tell both Yuno and Greer start getting jittery.

“What is this supposed to mean,” Yuno mumbles. “Where is everyone? What did the First Order do to the people?”

It’s Mede’e who notices the sounds.

“Three o-clock,” she tells them, heading for a group of small houses.

The houses are unremarkable, a general type of a family home one can find in every suburban area across the galaxy, built in an economical, blocky Eriadu architecture with square windows and small gardens at the front. The Eriadu’s atmosphere is too polluted for much fauna to be flourishing on the planet, so the garden is mostly filled with colorful rocks arranged into ornaments and few short, dark green spiky plants Finn doesn’t recognise.

However, what’s interesting, is the sound of crying that is emerging from one of the houses.

Mede’e stalks toward the house, hand on a blaster, but Finn stops.

It’s like the sound of crying is the last piece of a puzzle at the back of Finn’s mind, one he wasn’t even aware he was building, but now that a woman’s - a mother’s - desperate cry joined the other pieces, it’s all crystal clear in his mind. There’s thousand more cries howling in an awful symphony with the one coming out of the house. They’re a bit like those of people from Hosnian System, in that they’re not quite _there_.

But they’re also completely different, in that they’re a little less desperate and a little more scared, and they’re not at all final. They cry and cry, thousands of voices, and some of them are crying in agonising pain as if their hearts were torn out, but others are simpler. Finn closes his eyes and wavers a bit on his feet. They cry in fear and cold and hunger and discomfort, and longing for their mother’s arms, and those are all so, so painfully young.

And they all echo in Finn’s soul like a holo he’s seen before.

“Children,” he croaks with eyes still closed and he feel Greer stop and look to him. “That’s what the First Order is doing. They’re stealing children.”

“What?” Greer says and when Finn opens his eyes the Devaronian is standing right in front of him, his face a picture of bewilderment and red specks dancing in his purple eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Children,” Finn forces through a tight throat. “Children, like me. They’re stealing kids to fill up their ranks. Because so many people died on Starkiller. They need soldiers. New soldiers. New Stormtroopers.”

Finn feels himself starting to tremble and his stomach is a black hole, sucking in the warmth from his whole body. His scalp itches and his fingertips tingle and it’s like an entire planet is hurtling towards him and he can’t do anything except cover his face and wait for the end.

“What?” Greer repeats and his voice now sounds more annoyed than confused.

Before Finn can answer a scream pierces the air, coming out of the house Mede’e just entered.

“They took him! They took my baby! They took my baby!”

Greer looks to the house, his purple eyes widening. And Finn…

Finn crumbles. His insides fall fall into that black pit that became of his stomach, his lungs, his heart, all his bones; his ribs and his healed spine, collarbones and fine bones of his fingers, they neatly fold on themselves like cards in the cardhouse Jess builds in the hangar when Amara blows on it.

And Finn is left empty.

He has just enough self-awareness and energy to turn away from Greer before he leaves the contents of his stomach on Eriadu’s yellow soil.

“They took him! They stole him!!” the woman doesn’t stop screaming.

Her pain is palpable. It shatters her voice and the shards drive themselves deep into Finn’s brain and hurt and hurt. He’s cold but sweating, and his stomach keep tightening painfully even if there’s nothing left in it.

 _This is how my mother felt,_ Finn keeps thinking. _This is how she felt when they took me._

Finn would like to believe he’s just projecting it, but deep inside he knows it’s true. That the deepest, most horrible grief this Eriadu woman feels, the sense of loss like her own flesh was ripped apart, it wails within Finn so strongly because it is also a memory, deep and dark and forgotten until now.

“What’s happening?” Yuno’s voice is in Finn’s ear suddenly. “Finn, you okay? Are you hurt? Finn!”

Mede’e is there also, her small hand on Finn’s back, and when did she return from the house?

“Finn says they’re stealing the children,” Greer says. “The First Order? They’re filling up their ranks after the Starkiller.”

Through a veil of tears Finn looks at Mede’e who is crouched next to him and sees her eyes widen in recognition.

“Stars…” she says as she connects the empty city with the woman’s desperate cries and her face pales.

“They’re still here!” Yuno says. “We need to let the command know - the First Order has to have a transport ship hidden somewhere, we need to find it and launch attack on it!”

“Do it,” Mede’e tells him, command like a steel in her voice and Yuno walks a little bit of and lifts his comm, starts transferring the information.

“Finn?” Mede’e turns back to him. “I need you to take deep breaths and calm down. Can you do it? We need to move.”

“They’re still here,” Finn whispers. “They’re in the city - they go from outside in so people can’t escape. They’re still taking children. We have to keep going. We have to stop them.”

“And we will,” Greer crouches on Finn’s other side, determination on his face. “So you need to get up, soldier. We have to go.”

Finn takes a deep breath and nods.

“Yes,” he says, his voice still a murmur, but he stands up and wipes his mouth on his sleeve.

“Good boy,” Mede’e gives him tight smile and a squeeze to his shoulder and turns to Yuno who is putting away his comm.

Greer also gives him pat on the shoulder and a nod, resolve in the tight line of his jaw.

“We _will_ stop them,” he promises and turns to follow Mede’e and Yuno.

Finn also follows, his steps a bit wobbly.

But even as they leave the screams behind, there’s still a black hole sucking everything from Finn and he can’t feel Greer’s certainty or Mede’e courage, or the bold, furious determination that’s in Yuno’s gait.

He just has a very, very bad feeling about this.

However, he obediently walks after Yuno, closing off their little group. There’s more crying and rubble on the streets as they continue towards the city centre, sure sign that they’re following in the footsteps of the Stormtroopers. Finn sees Greer reaching for his blaster and Finn takes his out too, checking that his knife is still on his belt.

Eventually, they arrive to a square with a fountain in the middle and two neat rows of houses on either side. Everything on Eriadu is so neat, like it’s a world that has never meant to be touched by chaos, by war, and it makes Finn wonder what did Hosnian Prime look like.

It's not neat now. There's a pile of rubble near the fountain and smoke coming out of several windows. The doors are missing, kicked out or broken down, gaping wounds on the orderly house facades. 

There are Stormtroopers miling about. It's nowhere near the largest amount of them Finn has ever seen, barely a dozen, but it must be the most the rest of his unit have, because they all stare with wide eyes and white knuckled grips on their blasters from the shadowy corner where they hide.

There's few more Stormtroopers leaving the houses and they're all carrying babies. Teary-eyed, red-faced, screaming for their parents. Heartbroken wails follow them on the street, but the Eriadu citizens don't seem to be courageous enough to do so, peeking from behind their ruined doors, not when there's a half dozen blasters trained on them.

That is until a middle-aged man runs out of one of the houses, following a Stormtrooper who stole his son, his hands outstretched, mouth desperate and eyes wild. He makes barely three steps before one of the Stormtrooeprs shots him squarely in the chest.

"Everyone stay inside!" he orders, towering over the fallen man. "If you will not resist, you will be left alive and unharmed."

This must be enough for Greer, who grips his blaster impossibly tighter, squares his shoulders and before any of them can stop him, steps out of the shadows

"We  _will_ resist!" he announces loudly and a dozen of white helmets turn to him. "You will not get away with this!"

And he trains a blaster on the Stormtrooper who just killed an innocent man and before anyone can do anything shoots him. The Stormtrooper topples over and falls, narrowly missing the man he murdered.

Yuno shots Finn a lightning quick, desperate look and then they're all stepping onto the square and aiming their weapons at the Stormtroopers.

The fight is surprisingly quick. The Stormtroopers holding the children try to retreat, and some of them manage, but most are found by a blaster shot from one of the Resistance fighters and Finn feels like he hasn't blinked, hasn't even drawn a single breath, and it's over. The Stormtrooeprs are down and Finn's unit is victorious. Mede'e and some of the Eriadu people run to the fallen Stormtroopers who still clutch babies in their death arms and wrestle the children out. 

Mothers hug their children close and a man holds Yuno's hand - Yuno allowing him to do so but looking incresingly more uncomfortable when the man starts crying and thanking him. 

More people talk to Greer and Finn feels like he's not quite there, like he's sitting underwater and the words are coming to him slow and crumpled. Only later he pieces them together and realises they arrived just in time, that most of the houses were not yet broken into and nearly all the children were returned to their parents.

For the moment.

But that's all just a background noise. Instead, Finn sees limbs askew covered in white armour and dead eyes hidden behind the white helmets and he thinks: Which ones did I kill.

He thinks: Which ones did I know.

Which ones did I train with, which ones did I meet in the hallway. How many of them were on a first mission? How many of them were excited? How many of them didn't want to come?

And across the street from Finn there's another pile of white armour but there's something different about it. There's a splash of colour there and Finn's eyes zero on it.

Later, months and years later, Finn thinks back to the next moment. He keeps coming back, his mind obsessively picking at every single detail he remembers until he can’t tell what is a real memory and what is his brain trying to sort out the myriad of pictures and emotions that went through it in that single moment when Eriadu stopped spinning around its axis and Finn saw everything stark and clear and so, so horrible. It’s strange, what bits stand out it a middle of the battle.

There’s a Stormtrooper laying across the street, sprawled on his back over a pile of rubble. One of his hands is hanging down, limp, and a streak of vividly red blood curls over his wrist from beneath his uniform, paints the tips of his fingers and drips down.

 _Tap, tap, tap,_ it goes, splashing against the pavement.

 _Tap, tap, tap_ , it goes, slowly, rhythmically, just like the Stormtroopers chest rises and falls.

 _Tap, tap, tap,_ it goes, like Finn’s heart in his throat when he walks toward the Stormtrooper.

Toward his enemy.

But it’s not an enemy; it’s Slip, forever reaching his hand to FN-2178, asking for who knows what. It’s Eriadu’s children screaming in terror as they’re being torn from their parents’ arms. It’s just a boy, like Slip, like Finn, like every baby stolen from this planet today, who is dying. But he is not dead yet and Finn thinks, if he could only reach him in time, if he could take him back to Andrra and have the Resistance save him, maybe then this war would be over.

It can’t take more than few moments, the world almost silent except the stubborn tapping as the blood continues dripping from the Stormtrooper’s fingers. Finn never reaches him, because Mede’e’s voice cuts through the silence, jarring and sudden:

“Finn!”

“Incoming!” yells Yuno at the same time.

Finn doesn’t know how he could miss it but when the world rushes back in, it’s filled with the wheezing sound of the TIE fighters and a quick look up confirms the sky is suddenly filled with them. Worse, there are more Stormtroopers arriving to the square, Finn can see them filling the adjoining streets and Mede'e ushers the Eriadu citizens back into their houses. There’s a large First Order transport steadily releasing more and more of the fighters to the left, and to the right another one is landing and Finn realises that’s where the Stormtroopers with the babies are heading.

“We’ve got to stop them!” Greer shouts but Finn knows they can’t.

The TIE fighters will make it impossible for them to come anywhere closer.

“We head that way, they’ll shoot us and they’ll shoot their own too, with the children!” he shouts back. “Stay here, stop those coming from behind, block the streets, but don’t approach the transport!”

Mede’e and Yuno both relay his instructions into their comms and Greer tightens his jaw and for a moment Finn thinks he will not listen, but then his eyes gleam and he aims his blaster at the shadows where the incoming Stormtroopers are taking cover.

“Come out, you cowards!” he hollers. “Come out and give up, or you’re not leaving this place alive!”

The Resistance’s X-Wings are in the air too, now, and Finn knows it’s best they leave them to deal with the TIEs and hopefully stop the transport leaving the Eriadu’s atmosphere.

What then, Finn doesn’t know, but he’ll think of it later, because there’s more and more Stormtroopers lurking in the streets, some of them with babies in their arms, ready to cross the square where Finn’s unit is. Others are probably backup called by the unit they destroyed ready to come and take back the children Mede'e just managed to return to their parents and who are hiding back in their houses without doors. It seems like they blocked an important route to the transport off-world, which would be good, if there wasn’t only the four of them and about two dozens of the Stormtroopers, even if many of them are carrying children.

“Backup,” Yuno is saying into his comm, realising the problem at the same time Finn does. “We need immediate backup, I’m transferring the location, _please_ , we need backup, hurry!” Yuno’s voice trembles a little, an edge of desperation creeping into the corners and Finn wishes he could reach out and put a hand on his shoulder, but Yuno is too far and Finn isn’t sure how comforting it would be anyway, because his own fingers tremble a bit, and he is afraid.

He is very afraid.

There’s a moment of stillness. The TIEs screech in the air. Bomb goes off somewhere in the distance. The babies cry. Finn’s comm buzzes with static. He touches his blaster and it’s sure and smooth under his fingers. The air shimmers - just like on Starkiller and Takodana and D’Qar, humming with life. Finn squares his shoulders.

And then the time starts flowing again, and speeds up and up and up until everything around Finn is a blur.

He shoots left. He shoots right. He doesn't have time to see if any of his shots hit their mark. 

At some point he realises there's more Resistance on the square now, the backup Yuno called for finally arrived. The fight gets more balanced and even as Finn registers some of the Stormtroopers with children slipping through the gaps and running for the transport ship, most of them stay hidden and no one enters the houses where Eriadu people are hiding.

 _We are going to win,_ Finn thinks, uneasy. Win by killing a lot of other people.

He shoots left. He shoots right. He purposefully doesn't look if any of his shots hit a mark.

And then, when it looks like they're going to win, when it looks like everything might be at least a bit alright, Finn feels like something cold and hard collided with his chest and he barely can draw a breath and for a moment everything, everything stops, the world rearranges itself and when it starts moving again it's nearly the same, but bits are missing.

A wide smile, an awful joke and Torrent Base ringing with an argument that somehow feels like love.

Finn has felt like this before. He knows before he turns to the left.

And there's Mede'e. Her eyes are wide and unseeing and in the middle of her stomach the fabric of her clothes are singed. She falls to her knees, then to her face and doesn't move again.

"NO!" Finn yells but it's too late.

Over Mede'e's lifeless body, his eyes meet Greer. And everything Finn feels, the terror, the shock, the endless grief is mirrored in the Devaronian's purple eyes.

Finn doesn't think. He shoots left. He shoots right. He doesn't look if any of his shots hit a mark, because his eyes are trained only on the Stormtrooper that shot Mede'e and nothing is left in him except for fury, just as hard and cold as whatever crashed into his chest and stayed lodged there when Mede'e was hit.

He blinks and he stands before the Stormtrooper. Without a moment of hesitation he pulls out General's knife and plunges it deep into the Stormtroopers chest, where he knows the armour is just a bit weaker. It goes in easily enough, Finn just barely feels it scrape against a bone and then he pulls it out, scraping against the bone again and the Stormtrooper falls to his feet, silent. 

Finn stands above him, breathes heavily and thinks -  _Isn't human meant to make a sound when they die?_

Finn feels sick. He hears a blaster shot whizz by his ear and when he looks up Greer stands there, blaster aimed to a spot somewhere beyond Finn. He very likely just saved Finn's life. Greer just nods at him. His jaw is still tight and there are tears in his eyes.

Finn blinks again and the fight is over. The TIEs are gone. The First Order transport is also gone. Even the Resistance X-Wings have disappeared from the sky. Everything is quiet.

There's more white bodies laying on the square. The Resistance is victorious again. Finn steps over the Stormtrooper he killed, puts his knife away, mentally notes he has to clean it later - and falls to his knees next to Mede'e at the same time Greer does.

"Three of ours are dead," he says quietly.

It could be worse, Finn thinks dully.

There's movement behind his back, the Resistance once again being helping Eriadu people to free the stolen children from their dead captors, being thanked. But Finn pays it no mind. More people join them, forming a circle around Mede'e and someone lifts her little body, turns her around and presses fingers to her pulse point. Finn knows it's pointless.

Finn has never seen a dead body, not from up close, and it's terrifying. He can't look at Mede'e. He doesn't know if it's disrespectful, if he owes her better, but no one stops him when he turns his back to the lifeless body. He can't.

It's horrific, the way everything that made up Mede'e has been scooped out and thrown to the stars and what's left is a pile of bones and skin and cells in a slowly cooling shape that looks like Mede'e, is a terrifying copy of her, but it's silent and empty.

Instead Finn looks to the Stormtrooper laying on the pile of rubble, the one next to the fountain across the street Finn wanted to save so desperately before. His chest doesn't rise anymore. The blood still runs down from underneath his armour though, flows to his fingers and drips to the floor.

 _Tap, tap, tap,_ stubbornly, unceasingly. 

Like a child screaming and screaming for his mother until the day he dies on a planet Galaxy away from his home. Like baby Sorra crying across the stars in Torrent Base's nursery, not yet knowing she's crying for a loss of mother she'll never know.

There's some more thanks from the locals Finn doesn't pay attention to and then they troop back to the camp, a sad group of people with bruises and bloodied hands and shoulders stooping. There's nothing more they can do for Eriadu.

Andrra greets them at the edge of the camp, her face pale and anxious. She wrings her hands, scanning them for injuries and her eyes fill wit tears when they land on the three bodies wrapped in some blankets the Eriadu citizens provided and realises there are injuries she can do nothing for.

Finn ignores her. He ignores the entire camp, medics asking him questions as he rushes past. Briefly, his eyes land on a blue face and he registers Chie sitting on a stool, a medic fussing over her. At the back of his mind he notes with some level of gratefulness that she must be alright, sitting up on her own, and that pilots must be also back, but the thought is out of his brain soon enough. He nearly runs through the camp, until he's standing in a field beyond it, short, gray grass of Eriadu tickling his ankles. Then Finn doubles over and, for the second time that day, vomits. Except this time he doesn't stop, not even when his stomach is as empty as Finn feels. He stays leaning over his knees and keeps dry retching and in his chest the voices keep on screaming. The little ones in fear and the older ones in pure anguish. Finn doesn't think they'll ever stop.

Not until they die, alone and possibly in this war they didn't want to be dragged into.

A drop of water lands on Finn's glove and it takes him a moment to realise it's a tear. And then more tears follow rapidly.

_Tap, tap, tap._

And the Force is richer today, and the Galaxy emptier. Finn wants to be angry. At the Force, that takes and takes, but that's not right, is it. It's only himself he should be angry at, because didn't he take some of those lives from the Galaxy? Didn't he fail to save others?

"Finn?" someone says and when Finn lifts his head it's Chie. Her small, gloved hands rest on Finn's and soon his tears wet her fingers.

"Finn, are you okay?" she asks and Finn knows she fully realises how stupid that question is.

"I can't," Finn gasps and it's good it's Chie here, because this confession always belonged to Chie Tanga. "I can't, I can't, you were right, I can't kill them because it's me, they're me, I can't...!"

But Chie isn't furious. She doesn't call him traitor. Instead, her eyes fill with tears too.

"Of course they are," she whispers. " _You_ were right. They're just kids. They're just stolen babies. They're  _people._ "

And of all the things, this is what completely breaks Finn. What is this war, when even Chie Tanga knows the face of the enemy behind their white masks. And yet she won't stop fighting. And Finn can't stop fighting. Because that's the only way, and it's bad. But no good ones exist.

Shoot to the left. Shoot to the right. And the Force grows richer still

Finn screams, Finn cries, his lungs burn. 

Chie's blue face swims in front of him, her eyes so fearful.

"Breathe, Finn," she says, squeezing his shoulders way too tight. "Stars, Finn, breathe,  _please_!"

"Get Poe! someone else shouts - Karé it sounds like, Finn's brain provides, detached as it is from his hurting, burning body.

And then Poe's hands replace Chie's on Finn's shoulders - Finn knows, because no one but Poe can be so gentle yet so firm.

"Finn, breathe," he orders, his voice the same gentle yet firm tone as his grip is.

Finally, finally Finn manages to gulp in some air.

Only after few more laborous breaths Poe pulls him in for a hug.

"Shhh, it's okay," he whispers into Finn's hair and his fingers draw circles on Finn's shoulders.

It's not, but Finn buries his head into Poe's chest, tries to steal his warmth and lets the sound of Poe's heart drown the world around.

Finally, he manages to find the little ball of light that was missing since he boarded the transport ship to Eriadu. It sits lower and smaller than it usually is, but it's there and it's warm, pulsing gently like a restarting heartbeat.

Finn curls around it, drawing whatever comfort it gives him. He doubts he deserves it, but just this once he allows himself, if only for Chie to stop anxiously hovering about. She already witnessed him breaking down twice. There really is no need to worry her further.

When everything quiets down, Finn and Poe sit on the top of Black One. BB-8 still sits in his little perch behind the cockpit. Finn doesn’t understand how a round piece of metal without a face can look displeased, but BB-8 manages. Finn is curled into a ball, but Poe’s legs hang down. The left one jiggles a bit, up and down. Poe’s heel clatters on the body of the X-Wing every time it comes down.

 _Tap, tap, tap_ , it goes.

 _Tap, tap, tap,_ like shots from a blaster in a quick succession.

 _Tap, tap, tap_ , like hundreds of small feet marching to a command.

 _Tap, tap, tap_ , like blood dripping onto the floor.

Finn kind of wishes Poe would stop, but doesn’t have the heart to ask him. Poe would surely do so, but Finn can feel the anxious energy coming off of him and he knows it has to go somewhere and this seems to be the only outlet at the moment.

“We lost,” he says eventually, quietly. It’s not a question.

“We did,” Poe says. “We never stood a chance - they knew we would be coming. They were prepared. We can’t fight them in an open battle like this. We just don’t have the numbers.”

Finn nods.

He knows every person counts. He knows oh so well. And yet. And yet he has to ask.

“I don’t think I can do this again, Poe,” he whispers. “I thought I could, I thought I could give everything to the Resistance, but I… I don’t think I can. I just don’t think I can.”

“There’s many other ways you can help, Finn. You know we need people everywhere, not just on the battlefield,” Poe soothes him, but Finn refuses to be calmed down just like that.

He has a responsibility. He took it on himself. He made a _promise._ How can he go to the General and take it back?

“They took the children, Poe,” he says, the burning need to explain himself making him turn to Poe and Poe is right there, eyes dark but open. “And, and I know the First Order is the enemy, but we kill them as much as they kill us, and they’re just kids, and in ten years, in fifteen years maybe, these children from Eriadu we couldn’t save will be the ones marching against us and we will kill them too. _I_ couldn’t save them, so I will kill them!”

“No!” Poe protest with passion and reaches for Finn, cupping Finn’s face in his hands. “No they won’t because in ten or fifteen years, there will be no more war. There will be no more First Order!”

“You can’t promise that,” Finn says, his voice trembling and his eyes welling up with tears.

“No, I can’t,” Poe says, some of the fight leaving him with slumped shoulders. “But I promise you this - you don’t have to go on the battlefield again. _Never_ again. I’ll talk to the General.”

Finn breathes out and with that breath, all his fear and vigor leave too and he feels a bit like a deflated balloon, but also calmer. He nods.

They’re quiet for a while, just sitting on top of Poe’s fighter. Poe still holds his face in his hands and he is so close, their noses are almost touching. Finn can’t even see his entire face at once and his eyes flicker restlessly to take everything in - Poe’s eyes so deep and dark and so close Finn could count his eyelashes, mouth pressed in an unhappy line, his brows knitted so tightly a thin vertical line runs from between them all the way up to disappear in Poe’s hairline. Then his lips part and a conflicted emotion flashes in his eyes. His face inches impossibly closer and his thumb strokes Finn’s cheekbone, catching an escaped tear.

Something changes, Finn thinks. Like the air between them got more dense, like a syrup, but maybe that’s just their breaths intermingling. And yet, Finn’s stomach drops, but it’s far from the unpleasant sensation from earlier when thousands of screams rang in Finn’s ears. They're quiet now. Only Poe's breaths are reaching him. He waits for something, _something_ and this time, he has a very good feeling about it.

Also like he should probably close his eyes for some reason…

Then suddenly Poe jerks back like he got burnt. His hands leave Finn’s face, one dropping into Poe’s lap, the other to Finn’s shoulder and then running down his arms to grasp at his hand. Poe looks away, resolutely staring in front of his nose and his mouth is small and tight again. Finn feels strangely disappointed, but Poe squeezes his hand tightly so everything must be alright.

“Not again,” he vows. His eyes are burning and Finn can’t look away. “You won’t have to do this again.”

And it doesn’t sound like this promise is what Poe wanted to make, but it’s sincere and determined, and Finn pushes at the feeling of disappointment, lets it sink into that hole in his stomach before it closes, and it’s enough.

 

* * *

 

As Poe promised, the very next day General Organa calls him in and tells him that command decided his talents would be better suited elsewhere. Finn knows it’s a lie, he’s certain half the base knows about his freak out yesterday, but he takes it over the shame that’s churning in his stomach.

A soldier that cannot fight. A Stormtrooper that cannot kill.

What a sight. Finn knows he’s an utter failure, but he can do without anyone else reminding him of that.

They have him do rounds of different branches of the Resistance for couple of weeks, to see where he fits, and Finn finds he really enjoys shadowing Thule in the medbay, although that might be more due to Thule’s company, dry wit mingling with gentleness in that particular way no one but Thule seem to possess, than to Finn’s genuine interest in medical career. He does however enjoy helping people much more than fighting them, and when he eventually ends up being assigned to the control room, with a special designation as their liaison with the intelligence office, Finn can’t be happier.

But those few weeks are genuinely some of the best of Finn’s life. He learns so much and meets tons of new people and at the end of it, Finn thinks he has a pretty good idea what he excels at, what he needs to learn and where his shortcomings lie. He knows what he enjoys and what bores him, what he takes pleasure in doing and what he can’t stand.

He also finds there is grace in failing. Where Finn expects to be mocked, there is only support and kindness. Where he expects to feel humiliated, he finds modesty that comes from knowing one’s abilities rather than self-consciousness. In fact, this little adventure serves better than anything else to thwart any lingering doubts anyone had about the Stormtrooper in their midst. Finn realises, later, that he probably should have expected that where the First Order would find his sign of humanity as a weakness, the Resistance sees it as something to be respected and cherished.

Finn, with gentle nudges from Poe, mainly, and the rest of his friends, when he allows them to see his self-doubts, slowly comes to understanding that failings are just another side of being human, that they are lessons about one’s self everyone learns, and keeps learning through their lives.

In the control room, Finn can employ everything he’s good at and everything he likes. He does a lot of planning and problem solving. His knowledge comes in handy several times during the field ops. It’s discovered, that Finn has nerves of steel and never wavers in his decisions and soon when the pilots or foot soldiers are told that Finn will be their main base contact on the mission, there can be cheers heard over the comms, because Finn is calm and steadfast and there, supportive in an unfailing way that makes everyone believe they will definitely not be left behind. Plus, it seems that Finn can, even from stars and systems away, always tell when the danger is lurking and he becomes known for his instincts and people rely on him.

People rely on him.

That is a novel thought, and a bit scary, but Finn decides he will give them his best. It’s not uncommon for him to step out after a nerve-wracking mission and lean on the wall and breathe, breathe, breathe until he stops feeling dizzy from fear and adrenaline, but he never hesitates during the mission itself, never blanks out, never _stops_.

With a bit of time, Finn hesitantly joins a recon mission with Poe, which is supposed to be very easy and “Finn I just want you to see this planet, it’s _amazing_ ” and it indeed goes without a hitch, without encountering any enemies (without encountering anyone, really) and the planet is indeed stunning. Finn becomes more daring after that and he joins couple more missions over the months. There low-risk ones at interesting places that Poe usually drags him to, with his eyes shining in enthusiasm to show Finn a new colour of the universe. And there are special First Order intelligence missions and intel gathering where Finn’s knowledge comes handy, but he’s unlikely to fight. He joins the General on few diplomatic visits as well and he finds that as long as he doesn’t have to step in front of a big crowd and he doesn’t have to go into too much detail, he’s happy to be the poster reformed Stormtrooper, or a poor orphan abused by the First Order, depending on the angle General Organa wants to play.

About two months after he’s been assigned to the control room, Finn joins a mission to get intel from a planet with First Order established mining colony. The mission goes pear-shaped and there’s a blaster fight, and Finn sets his blaster to stun and doesn’t hesitate to shoot the guards that found them sneaking around, single-mindedly focused on protecting his team. Afterwards, he bandages Yuno’s shoulder where blaster clipped him and they run back to the ship with the mission objective safely tucked in Finn’s pocket. The rest of the team stops throwing him worried glances by the time they're back at the base, assured that Finn isn’t going to have a panic attack.

Poe waits for them on the tarmac, frown etched onto his face, but he has one look at Finn’s face and his expression brightens. He hugs Finn just a little bit tighter and says:  
“Welcome home. Good job.”

“I have to go to the debrief,” Finn hugs him back. “Meet you for dinner?”

Later, when they’re back in their quarters getting ready for bed, Finn admits:  
“I got really scared back there. And for a moment I didn’t think I could move, when that squad came around the corner and pointed blasters at us. But then everything I know kicked in and I knew I couldn’t let anything happen to my team. And then we were back at the ship and no one was even seriously injured and the General was congratulating us through the comm and suddenly we were in hyperspace and _it was all fine_ . No one got hurt, no one got _killed_ and I was… Fine. I was worried I won’t be, but I was just fine.”  
Poe’s smile is small and kind and Finn thinks a little bit proud. He comes over and hugs Finn and then sits next to him on the bed and keeps his arm slung over Finn’s shoulder. Finn leans into Poe’s side, the ball of light bouncing happily inside his ribcage, tickling him, making him smile.

“You did well, Finn,” is all Poe says, it’s all there is to say.

After that, Finn becomes much more confident with the missions.

Finn is happy. For the first time he is really, truly happy and content with his place in the universe. He is good at what he does and people respect him for it and this, this is where he’s meant to be.

 

* * *

 

After Finn finally finds place in the Resistance where he fits, the life sets into a routine and the days speed up. More often than not, Finn finds he’s measuring his time by Poe.

By Poe's laughs and pats on the back, by the pirouettes the Black One does in the air when Poe can be happy and playful after the drills. By BB-8's beeps that sound more and more sarcastic to Finn when the droid talks to Poe and by afternoons the two of them send laying side by side in the garden. By Poe's shrieks when the kids in the nursery tickle him and the songs in the pilots rec room and quiet, sad frowns when he's reminded of someone that died and bottles of Corellian ale that make him loose and unabashed and the cups of unfinished caf left on the table in their room. By the hugs he bestows upon Finn. By Poe’s quiet breaths at night and flutter of his eyelashes against Finn’s neck when he dreams.

He measures time in “fly safes” when Poe goes on a mission.

“Fly safe,” he tells him when Poe flies recon with Snap to Algarian System and Poe grins and says:

“You know I physically cannot fly safe! BB-8, tell him!”

BB-8 beeps something Finn can’t decipher because he still doesn’t speak binary and he frowns at Poe’s dramatics, when he’s clearly trying to be serious.

“Just a routine observation, nothing to worry about!” Poe adds and slaps Finn’s shoulder.

“Fly safe,” Finn says and looks over his shoulder at Jess, pale-faced and jittery, when the Red Squadron is getting ready to fly to Dandoran, Jess’ homeworld, where the reports of a First Order attack came from. And Poe knows what Finn really means, doesn’t joke this time. He squeezes Finn’s arms and says:

“We will be,” and what it really means is: “I won’t leave anyone behind.”

“You guys fly safe!” Finn yells at the combined forces of Blue and Dagger Squadron when they’re doing pre-flight checks, preparing to join a skirmish in Ithor System Finn will be supervising from the control room. Karé rolls her eyes, Snap gives him a salute, only Chie nods seriously. Poe smiles into Finn’s embrace and pats his shoulder before pulling back.

“Fly safe!” Finn insists when they get reports of the First Order attacking Rattatak and stealing their babies to fill their ranks and Poe’s eyes are aflame when he looks at Finn, but he nods and pulls him into a fierce hug.

“We’ll get them,” he promises and it’s not quite what Finn wants, but Poe’s touch lingers and it’s enough.

“Fly safe,” he murmurs into Poe’s shoulder when they’re getting ready to attack First Order base and Poe’s voice is equally muffled when he says:

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back.”

Finn is content where he is, with both feet on the ground, watching everyone from afar, making sure they will return home safely. He doesn’t want to fight ever again.

But with every “Fly safe” he wishes just a little bit he could be up there with Poe to guard and protect him.

At the end of Finn’s ninth month with the Resistance, it becomes clear they need to move soon. The First Order’s attacks are hitting closer and closer to home, and the Resistance more than tripled its numbers since Starkiller and the space is becoming a real issue. Snap and his squadron fly recon after recon to find a suitable place to host the large force the Resistance has become and they come up with few options. For a whole week Finn barely sees Poe, or kids, or anyone else, cooped up in the command centre with the General, Admiral Statura, Major Emmat and couple of other officers, reviewing the options, until the finally settle on Aleidu, one of thirty one moons orbiting a gas giant Hsyr in Teth System.

In the past, the Teth System became a sanctuary for B’Omarr Order. The B’Omarr monks creeped Finn out enormously when he learned about their strange, brain-removing customs, but Snap promised the Order was long gone, leaving behind their sprawling monastery built right into a mountain, complete with a landing strip and several gardens, all perfectly hidden from the air. According to Snap and his pilots, size of the monastery was perfectly suitable for growing Resistance and it was ready to move in, unlike Torrent Base, which was built from scratch about five years ago. The moon is also completely inhabited, even the flora and fauna being quite limited, and so is mostly the whole system. Planet Aleidu right next to Hsyr has couple of settlements, which Snap thinks will be good for trading, and main planet in the system, Teth, is just a few hours away. Most of its population was driven away by the Hutts, who used to control the system, but they are also mostly gone now. About half of the big cities remaining on Teth are human populated, and Snap did a bit of careful sniffing around and found out people are either indifferent, or sympathising with the Resistance. The rest of the Teth is a jungle, and there’s plenty of non-sentient mammals and birds that are edible, so food and supplies won’t pose a problem. Aleidu is a small moon with short spin and according to Snap, the seasons and day cycles are rather unpredictable, thanks to the tidal effects of its gas giant of a planet, which makes it completely uninteresting to the sentient inhabitants of the system, but it has breathable atmosphere, standard gravity and plenty of water sources, and no one will bother them there.

Snap also tells them, that although every time they did recon on the planet, the weather was nothing but lovely, it’s colder than D’Qar, and they’ll be staying in mountains instead of a jungle this time. With only six weeks left before the Resistance is scheduled to move, Lyn organises an impromptu trip to the seaside.

“We’ve been here for two years and we never took children to the ocean!” she says, tone appalled. “Better go now, who knows for how long we’ll be stuck in the freezing mountains!”

Finn is in the room when Lyn presents her idea to General Organa and the General catches his wistful gaze.

“Have you ever seen an ocean, Finn?” she asks and Finn realises he now doesn’t feel a grain of shame for not having a particular experience.

“No, ma’am,” he says with a smile. “If it was possible, would I be allowed to accompany Lyn and the children?”

The general nods thoughtfully.

“Let’s make a proper trip out of it.”

With all pilots pulled from missions unless an absolute emergency should arise, getting their fighters ready for a move, and all other personnel mostly focused on packing too, General Organa thinks it safe to give everyone a weekend free, with only the skeleton crew remaining in service. Not that many people elect to join Lyn’s day long trip to the ocean, but Poe and nearly all of Finn’s friends go.

“People are paranoid,” Poe sighs when Finn complains about Thule deciding to remain on the base for the day. “Little downtime would do everyone good, but that’s the nature of war. After a while, you start feeling like you can’t give yourself a minute to relax, because something could happen and then it would be your fault.”

“I’m just gonna miss Thule’s jokes,” Finn grumbles. Poe’s answering smile to that is a bit stilled and Finn regrets bringing the issue up now, because what if Poe decides he should stay on the base too, just in case? But before he has a chance to say something, to somehow take it back, Poe grins and slings one of his arms around Finn’s shoulders.

“Well, I’ll just have to be extra funny, then,” he waggles his eyebrows and Finn can’t hold his laugh.

“Please, anything but more of your horrible jokes!” he jabs Poe in the ribs and Poe laughs back.

Finn privately thinks he might just not miss Thule that much after all.

The day of the trip is hot and humid, as all days on D’Qar are, but surprisingly sunny, with few big clouds high in the sky, fluffy and more white than grey.

Majority of Blue and Red Squadron follows their leader. Iolo leads about half of his squadron as well, with Chie Tanga being the only from her Squadron to go.

“They’re all lazy bantha poodoos,” she grumbles, hanging back, visibly nervous when children come near her. “They were all in until it was decided we won’t take speeders. Then suddenly everyone had different plans.”

They decide that children and speeders would be a challenging combination and they would rather walk to the shore. It’s not that far, two hours top with the kids and their small steps, but about halfway through, sweat running down his back in rivers, Finn comes to understanding why that would deter a lot of people from joining the trip.

Bastian and Kaydel with few other junior officers come, couple of mechanics, mostly those who have children, happy to have some family time, same with intelligence and ground troops.

All in all it’s over a hundred of people, and everyone is happy, joking, laughing and shouting at each other on the way, with children running back and forth, weaving amongst the adults.

It’s one of the best days of Finn’s life.

That doesn’t mean it goes without a hitch.

After two hours of trekking through the jungle, the moment they get to the beach, everyone tears their clothes off, dropping it across the beach like insides of some fabric monster, and with mighty roar run to the water. Everyone except Finn.

Finn stops at the line of trees and sand, aware that his mouth hangs open, but unable to do anything about it, and _looks_.

He has never seen anything like this. Obviously, Finn has never seen an ocean, the lake at Takodana being the largest water body he’s ever seen, but he _has never seen anything like this._ The water is all shades of blue and green and violet and it stretches, beyond where Finn can see, beyond the horizont. There is nothing but the endless water, nothing in the world beyond the blue-green-purple ocean. The war, First Order, even Finn’s past have been drowned in its depths and Finn is calm. The waves crash onto the shore in a slow, steady rhythm and soon Finn’s whole being moves in harmony with it. Even the light within him sways with it, back and forth, back and forth, and it’s hypnotising and calming and absolutely, mind-shatteringly _amazing_.

“Finn,” Poe’s voice startles Finn out of his reverie and Poe is standing right in front of him - when did he get there? - grinning, hair wet and plastered to his forehead. “Come on, the water is amazing!”

Poe grabs Finn’s hand and pulls him toward the water.

“Dameron, his clothes!” Chie yells at them from the water when they get close and Poe stops and turns to Finn suddenly and then chuckles.

“Oh, yeah,” he grins and tugs on the hem of Finn’s shirt. “Not great, swimming in your clothes.”

Poe’s knuckles brush the soft skin at Finn’s stomach and he shivers, looking right into Poe’s eyes, dark and lovely, and Poe pulls his hand back as if he got burned.

“You got that covered, right, buddy?” he mumbles, suddenly quiet, averting his eyes. Poe steps few steps back and Finn wonders what he did wrong. He quickly pulls his clothes off, unlaces his boots and puts everything in a neat pile in the middle of beach, and when he looks up again, Poe is still standing there, easy smile back on, beckoning him to enter the waves.

The water is like a warm tea, pleasant on Finn’s overheated skin. The rhythm of the waves is even better when Finn can feel it with his own body. It carries him up and down and when he sits down, the sand under him is soft, rounded by the infinite power of ocean, nothing like Jakku sand, and Finn sinks into it a bit, his upper half hugged by the clean, warm water, and there is nothing. Nothing but this. Finn has never felt like this before, content and in peace.

Of course, that’s only until Tom and Maya run to him with identical battle screams and splash the water into his face and Finn automatically opens his mouth to laugh and shout back at them and that’s how he learns that ocean water is also salty in a very unpleasant way.

He spends the morning close to the shore, playing with the children in waves. He sits just on the edge of water, letting the waves lick at his feet, Chie on his left side and Kaydel on the right, swapping gossip from the hangar and gossip from the control room over his head, the ocean a calm whisper in the background. Chie drips wet sand in little piles and Finn watches in fascination as it forms tiny peaks and crooks and valleys, smooth and perfect as if they were crafted with a great precision.

After the lunch, the all move a bit down the beach, where sand gives way to rocky cliffs. The children run around, looking for sea creatures in the small rock pools. The pilots, of course, immediately begin to dare each other, and then everyone else too, to jump into the water from higher and higher rocks.

Finn settles on the cliffs just above the water with Mundo and the children, watching the entertainment.

“It’s like a bunch of monkey-lizards,” Mundo rolls his eyes, but his tone is fond and the kids have great fun, cheering loudly for the most daring Resistance fighters.

Finn loves it.

Poe, naturally, quickly works up the courage to climb one of the highest rocks above Finn’s head. They look up, Poe’s silhouette stark and almost black against the sun, and then he flies past them with a wild cry, a blur of dark curls and tanned skin disappearing under the water. He resurfaces a moment later, laughing.

“You guys gotta try that!” he shouts to the shore, face open and lit with grin, hair plastered all over it.

Poe turns on his back and swims around for a bit, squirting water out of his mouth and into the air, shouting:

“I’m a whale!”

The children are absolutely delighted by it.

When he finally climbs next to Finn, he playfully shoves Poe’s shoulder.

“Silly whale,” he says, making the children erupt into giggles again. “Don’t you know you can’t live on earth?”

Poe’s answer is to squirt the remaining water in his mouth right in Finn’s face.

“Eeeeew, Poe!” Finn protest, shoving him harder, while Mundo barely manages to catch Tom, who almost falls off the cliff, he’s laughing so hard. “Disgusting!”

Poe only giggles like a maniac and Finn can’t keep his own laughter in for long. He’s not really annoyed, and even if he was, he can’t imagine he would be able to stay that way for long. Not when Poe’s smile is wide and and his laugh strong and ringing and drops of water sparkle on his tan skin. He’s like ocean itself to Finn in that moment, infinite and ageless, calm and exhilarating at once. He feels as pleasant as the warm water on Finn’s skin did. He thinks of looking up the cliffs just a moment ago, squinting his eyes against the sun and for a bit he isn’t sure if it really was the sun blinding him, or simply Poe himself and the light that burns in him even brighter than usual, the flame inside Finn’s chest answering to it and turning into a bonfire. Finn wants to end the war just for this, just so he can see this Poe, carefree and happy, every day.

Once it’s been proven the jump off the big cliff is safe, everyone wants to try it. Poe jumps again, this time rolled into a tight ball and makes a mighty splash that sprays children with Finn and Mundo. The kids are, of course, ecstatic. Snap jumps next, also curled up, and his splash is even more impressive. The kids whoop in joy and Snap does it again, and again.

Chie dives in, her body an elegant arch, nimble and smooth in the water as if she was born in it, curling with the waves like a beautiful blue fish. Amara doesn’t like heights, but when the pilots double and triple dare her, she jumps with Jess, eyes shut and holding her hand firmly. She resurfaces laughing, grabbing for Jess.

“That was amazing! Let’s go again!” she yells, her lekku bobbing in the water, trailing behind her like two ribbons.

Maya’s father comes for her, to take her up and jump with her. Maya wraps around him like a little monkey and laughs and shrieks on the way down, and laughs some more after they land, holding her father around his neck tight as he swims to the shore.

This kickstarts a chain reaction of all the children begging for the same. Fortunately, there’s more than enough volunteers for the task. When the children one by one trickle up the cliff, Poe comes to get Finn.

“Come on, you’ve been relieved of the child-watching duty!” he pulls on Finn’s arm.

“I’m not jumping!” Finn says, although he does get up, drawn to Poe and the electrifying feel of his palm on Finn’s bare skin like a flower to the sun.

“Come on, buddy! It’s really fun! I can jump with you, if you want.”  
“That’s kind of you, but I can’t swim,” Finn smiles. “I don’t suppose I can just hang on you like the kids?”

Poe’s eyes crinkle in amusement and he looks Finn up and down as if he was measuring him.

“Suppose not,” Poe bites his lip absentmindedly. “But still come up. The view is awesome.”

Poe looks away and his face goes a bit more serious as they begin their trek up the cliff.

“You should have said before,” he says. “That kind of information is good to have when we go, you know, _swimming_.”

“I was going to stay on the shallow end,” Finn shrugs. “No big deal.”

What he means is: _I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Nobody needs to add to their List of Things That the Stormtrooper Doesn’t Know._

“Well, I’m still glad I know,” Poe’s fingers skim Finn’s shoulder, gentle, pleasant touch. “Next time, tell me earlier. Just in case.”

What Poe means, and Finn hears loud and clear, is: _I know. It’s okay. But remember, you can tell me anything. I won’t judge._

“Okay,” Finn agrees easily, soothed by both Poe’s voice and his touch.

What he means is: _I know you won’t. Thank you._

Finn hardly remembers the time in his life before he and Poe started to have these silent conversations, but he’ll never forget to be glad for them. He’s glad for Poe, in all his shining brilliance, glad to have a friend who is a calm ocean in this confusing, ever-changing world.

Poe is right. The view from the cliffs is breathtaking. Finn regrets only a little bit he can’t jump too (it _does_ look like fun), but only a bit. The view of the ocean, the never ending mass of blue that darkens and then brightens again toward the horizon makes up for it. Finn stands close to the edge, watched birds swooping into the waves laced with foam. The ocean breeze is stronger up here, a lovely change of the stiff, heavy air in the jungle, and it smells amazing, of salt and fish and freshness. Everything is so fresh and open out here. Free. Finn feels like he could fly.

After a while, Maya drags Poe away, eager to jump with him. They wave to Finn when they land before Poe turns to swim back to she shore with Maya on his back.

“Didn’t you want to join Poe?” Snap, smirking and dragging the syllables in a way that’s very confusing to Finn.

“I think you should!” Tom shouts before Finn has a chance to enquire about Snap’s strange tone, and then the boy shoves at Finn’s stomach.

Finn doesn’t fly. But the fall is quite glorious, too, or at least Finn thinks it would be, tinged just with the right amount of danger to be exhilarating, if it wasn’t for the deep water below - like a soft bed to Poe who can swim, but certain death to Finn. A monster he cannot fight.

He screams, maybe, probably, he thinks - it’s something Finn would do - and then he lands and the ocean is cold and hard. Unforgiving. Different from the soft, friendly waves that were licking Finn’s ankles the whole day.

The moment the surface closes above his head, everything slows down.

He continues falling, he thinks, but he cannot be sure, because there is no up or down anymore, just the ocean, endless and mysterious and unknown. But he moves, in slow motion like heroes in the holos Amara and Jess like. Finn realises all of this equally slowly. It feels like he has all the time in the world to come to conclusions and sort his thoughts into neat rows, in this new, timeless world. He is in danger, he knows. He needs to try to swim, to go back to the air. He waves his arm half-heartedly, his logic sharp and quiet like the seawater around him, telling him he doesn’t stand a chance. The water fights him all the way, silent, hugging him snugly in its cold arms. Too snugly, maybe. His lungs are beginning to burn.

How cruel the ocean is. How kind. How fearsome. How calm.

 _I’m going to die_ , Finn realises and it’s as cruel and scary thought as the water is, but just as calm as well, and slow, spreading through Finn’s body with the chill of the ocean.

Finn waves his arms again, kicks his legs, he panics because he knows it’s pointless. Then he _accepts_ it. The ocean whispers to him:

_It will be alright._

_It will be calm._

_It will be peaceful._

Finn trusts it. Ocean isn’t like people, it isn’t malicious, he knows - it wants to claim him not because it’s greedy, but because it’s encompassing. It’s welcoming. It’s life in its purest form and it gives and takes in equal measure. Finn can feel it, thousands of little lights just like the one in his chest, lighting up the darkness around him like the stars light up the galaxy, and when he opens his eyes, he sees them too. He is too deep now for any light to penetrate the water, but he sees them still. Hundreds and hundreds of fish and sea creatures, turquoise and pink and yellow and striped, some of them grey and black, and all of them look at him, waiting.

 _I know,_ he tells them, cold, stingy fire licking his lungs. _But Poe._

Maybe he’s imagining things, but their eyes are sympathetic.

 _Help me,_ he says finally and then something reaches for him, he thinks, and drags him down, or maybe up, he cannot be sure, because darkness reaches for him at the same moment and it pulls his eyelids down, claps his eyes shut, and wraps him in _nothing_.

 

“...you hear me? Finn!”

Poe’s panicked voice rings in Finn’s ears and the first thing he thinks is that Poe should never sound like that. The second thing is that he is very, very cold. Almost as cold as when he laid in the snow on Starkiller with a fresh lightsaber wound on his back. The third is, that there’s water, salty and vile, in his mouth, and that isn’t good.

“ _Finn!_ ”

Finn’s eyes shoot open and he only glimpses the blue sky above him, before his body turns onto his side on instinct and Finn vomits what feels like the entire ocean on the sand next to him. He stays like that for a while, hunched over his shaking arms and panting, his vision swimming and his stomach rolling, while cacophony of voices starts all around him.

“He’s alright!” says Jess.

“Thank the stars,” breathes Snap and several other voices repeat that.

Someone laughs and someone gives a strangled sob and a child cries somewhere further away and Finn recognises Tom and yes, he does spend enough time in the nursery that he recognises all the children’s cries.

“Finn,” Poe’s voice is closest to him and then his arms gently pull on Finn’s shoulders, drawing him into a warm embrace.

Finn’s grateful, because any moment he could have facepalmed into his vomit, and that would not improve the situation, and because Poe’s skin is balm on his chilled body. He closes his eyes and leans his head on Poe’s shoulder and Poe squeezes him in, rubs his arms.

“Finn, Finn, Finn,” he says, over and over again, his voice full of relief, pressing his face into Finn’s hair.

He lets Poe just hold him for a long while, before he asks:

“What happened?”

“You fell into the water,” Poe says through clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Finn, I didn’t know you couldn’t swim, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry!”

Tom finally manages to escape tight hold of his father and falls on his knees next to Finn, his face as wet and salty as Finn’s must be, but from the tears still streaming down his face.

“I’m incredibly sorry,” Tom’s dad repeats, crouching next to his son, but he’s looking at Poe rather than Finn and Finn feels Poe’s arm around him stiffen, feels bitterness at the top of his tongue that doesn’t come from him. Finn himself isn’t angry, or annoyed even. He moves his - still shaking - arm and ruffles Tom’s hair, stiff from the salt.

“It’s okay. You couldn’t know - I should have told you guys I can’t swim before I even approached the water,” Finn, like Tom’s father, addresses those last words to Poe more than anyone else. “It’s okay Tom, I know you didn’t mean to… To… Well.”

Finn doesn’t actually know what happened - or nearly happened - to him. Tom seems to start crying harder at his words, but also gives him a trembling smile, so Finn knows he’ll be fine. Eventually, when his father is done with him, anyway. The man’s eyes are still stormy and he looks at his son meaningfully.

“The lack of knowledge isn’t a great excuse. We don’t just push people in the water regardless if they can swim or not!” he says, but lays his hand on Tom’s slender shoulder and Finn knows he’s angry, but in the right way the parents who love their children are when the children misbehave. “Come on, Tommy, let’s leave mister Finn to recover. You and I are going to have a long conversation about consent.”

Tom grimaces at Finn and Finn chuckles, certain now the boy will be fine and maybe even takes a lesson from all of this. Maybe. One can hope.

“I’m sorry, truly,” Tom’s father says again and then pulls Tom away.

Finn looks up to Poe’s face to see it cleared somewhat, while Jess crouches next to them.

“Come on, you two, we’re starting a fire. You need a towel and warmth, you’re trembling like a fish,” she says and her voice is also trembling a little bit, so Finn thinks it’s better to just go, even though he wanted to grill Poe for more information. He still doesn’t know what happened to him, really.

But there will be time for that and Poe is standing too, pulling Finn up and then, surprisingly, relinquishing his hold on him to Bastian.

“That’s a good idea,” he tells Jess. “I’m going to… Um… Tell the kids Finn’s okay. Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

Poe flashes Finn a little smile, pats his shoulder gently and is gone. It’s slightly confusing, but Finn supposes Poe’s got a point. The kids are probably quite shaken.

And so is probably everyone else, so Finn lets Bastian guide him to the fire, even though his legs work quite well again, and he lets Jess heap blankets on him, even though the combined forces of fire and D’Qar’s sun are warming him up more than enough and he lets Amara pretend that she learnt something from Thule, even though Finn knows she has no interest in medicine, and ask him questions and pat his head, even though she has no idea what she is doing, in fact, Finn probably knows better.

But Bastian’s arms are shaking and Jess’s smile is still trembling and Amara’s eyes are huge and wet in her face and everyone pats Finn’s shoulders like they need to make sure he’s really there and finally Finn can’t stand it and has to ask:

“So, what exactly happened?”

Because he feels alright, really, except that breathless moment right after he woke up and the vomiting. But he’s okay now and nobody treats him like he is.

There’s a quick, silent conversation between Amara and Jess and then Jess moves so she’s sitting in front of Finn and looks him in the eyes.

“Well, you fell into water,” she says simply.

Finn frowns.

“I did notice _that_ ,” he mumbles.

“You fell to the water,” Jess continues. “And didn’t swim up. It took a while for everyone to notice. Only when we saw Poe swimming back full speed - I don’t even know where he left Maya - did we realise something is wrong. He must have heard you yelling and the big splash, so he put it together rather quick.”

Jess pauses again.

“It was so quiet for a moment,” Amara picks up and her voice is quiet too, more than Finn ever heard it before. “I think we mostly all got there at the same time, but it was Kaydel who said…”

“ _Guys, can Finn swim?”_ Jess says, pitching her voice a bit higher to imitate Kaydel.

“And then half the people just jumped in after you,” Amara says. “In hindsight, that wasn’t very clever. It was more chaos, with everyone swimming around and diving and stirring the water.”

“And you guys are trying to save the whole Galaxy,” Finn jokes, because he doesn’t like them both looking so grave and quiet.

Jess looks indignant, but Amara gives a small chuckle.

“We’re trying,” she smiles.

“Anyway, it took a while. A long while,” Jess continues. “Too long. And then Poe emerged holding you. Dunno how he found you - I was down there too and, I mean, you probably noticed, but the visibility in the water is awful. And the deeper you get the darker it is, few feet in and you can’t see your own hands. And with how long it took us to react, you must have sunk pretty deep, and I thought… We couldn’t…”

Jess trails off. Swallows.

Finn doesn’t need her to continue. He barely remembers anything between his feet leaving the sun-warmed cliff and waking up to Poe’s terrified face, but he does recall the cold, the darkness. With every inch Finn’s body sunk the chance of anyone fishing him out lessened. With every second, he descended further and further from anyone’s grasp. There are life-forms in this Galaxy that live underwater - Mon Calamari like Ackbar, and Gundarks and Nautolans to name few - that could dive deep into the water without need for oxygen, whose eyes have adapted to see in the deepest oceans where sun doesn’t reach, but there’s few of them among the Resistance and none of them came to the beach today. Finn’s friends couldn’t do anything. And yet Poe did.

“Anyway, when Poe got you he hauled you to the shore and yelled at you for a bit and then you woke up and threw up half the ocean - we should go back there and see if there aren’t some pearls or something.”

“Ugh, Amara,” Jess scrunches her face.

“Disgusting,” Finn agrees cheerfully. “I’m not hunting for treasures in my own sick, but you’re welcome to it.”

Jess visibly shudders and Amara and Finn laugh. Amara’s laugh is just a little bit shaky.

“So, happy ending. I’m all good,” Finn tells them.

“I’ll decide about that,” Kaydel’s voice comes from behind Finn and when he turns she stands there with arms crossed and pale face as if she sprouted from the sand, so silently she sneaked up on him.

“I’m really fine,” Finn says, but he knows the resistance is futile.

Kaydel did a basic medic training before she decided the sight of blood makes her sick and changed careers, but right now she’s the closest they have to a medic, so Finn lets her crouch in front of him and give him thorough once over.

“Anything hurts?” she asks. “Stomach? Head?”

Finn shakes his head.

Sometimes during Kaydel’s examination Ana turns up. Finn can’t be sure when exactly, because she slides in quietly and stands on the side with palce face and red eyes, silent and motionless.

It’s wrong. It’s so wrong, seeing Ana who is always bright and loud and laughing being so quiet and still. When Kaydel finally pronounces Finn alright, Ana drops to the sand next to him in a fluid, controlled motion and silently puts her head on his shoulder.

“I’m okay,” Finn tells her softly. “I’m fine, nothing happened, it’s all good.”

He doesn’t think he’s very good at this, reassuring someone, but Ana shivers against him, once, and then nods.

“I know,” she says. “But I was terrified and it doesn’t go away that quickly. Just give me a second.”

“I’d give you forever,” Finn smiles and puts his hand around Ana’s shoulders.

She quietly snickers - although it’s coloured with a sob - and cuddles into his side.

They all sit around the fire and as Finn gradually becomes warm, everyone seems to relax. The children are back laughing in the water. Most of the people stopped giving Finn side glances and are enjoying the afternoon again.

Poe comes to the fire.

“All good?” he asks Kaydel, but his gaze stays on Finn.

“Yep. Not a hair amiss,” Kaydel nods.

Finn snorts at that. His hair, longer now than it’s ever been in his life, is drying in messy, salt clumped tuffs. Finn can feel it against his scalp.

Poe doesn’t laugh, but his shoulders sink a bit, tension almost visibly bleeding out of his frame.

“So, are you ready to jump back in?” Poe asks eventually.

“Back in?”

“Yeah. You're learning to swim, buddy.”

“Am I?” Finn  can't help chuckling.

Poe grins back and it's still a bit tight in the corners of his smile, but it is a smile nevertheless and although Finn has no real desire to jump back in the water, he's beginning to realise he would jump into worse things for Poe’s smile.

“You're not leaving this beach until you learn how to at least float,” Poe tells him and pulls him to his feet. “I won't have you scaring me like that again.”

Poe’s tone is teasing, his smile happy. But he holds Finn's hand tight and just the second too long and his touch is warm as always, but it's also a bit sharp, concern crawling up Finn’s arms like ants, even after Poe finally lets go.

He leads Finn back into the ocean, slowly, as if worried that Finn would get spooked and run back to the beach. But Finn isn’t scared of the sea. It might not be the smartest, safest instinct, but the little memory Finn has of his misadventure with the ocean isn’t scary. It’s calm, a little bit cold, but in a slow, inevitable kind of way. Nothing terrifying. Finn is pretty sure everyone else is more scared than him.

Besides, Finn would never feel scared in Poe’s arms. He dares anyone to feel unsafe with Poe solid and steady beside them.

He holds Finn in the warm water, his fingers slotted between Finn’s ribs while Finn floats on his belly.

“Keep your head up, but not too much. Don’t fight the water, let it carry you. Yeah, like that. You’re doing really well, Finn.”

Poe’s encouragement mix with the shouts and laughs of their friends. Poe’s eyes are twinkling, his smile more and more relaxed. His fingers shift on Finn’s chest, one of his hands brushing along Finn’s collarbone. A row of goosebumps blossoms along Finn’s arms and shoulders.

It's pretty much perfect.

“I'm gonna let go now. Don't try to swim, just float - I'll be right here to catch you if you start sinking.”

Finn isn't worried. Poe’s instructions to let himself be carried by water, to trust it, make complete sense to him. It cradles him in strong, warm arms, the waves whispering to him.

Like when he fell, Finn doesn't feel any malicious intent from it, just the infinite calm, a sense of something old and endless and completely, absolutely impartial. The ocean has been here long before Finn has arrived to D’Qar, and will stay long after Finn dies. But for the moment it welcomes Finn in its embrace and he feels safe there, honoured even, to become a part of it.

He floats happily, until he decides to turn his head - just a little.

“Look Poe, I'm floating!” he yells excitedly and gets a mouthful of water for his effort.

He starts coughing violently and immediately sinks under. But Poe is right there - just as he promised - and lifts Finn out of the water with arms hooked around Finn’s ribcage.

“You _were_ floating!” Poe laughs, his eyes raking over Finn, making sure he’s alright, always.

“Lemme try again,” Finn says, spitting out the water and already wriggling out of Poe’s hold.

“Yeah?” Poe lets him go.

It does take a few more tries, but soon Finn is able to float on his stomach with no trouble, lifting his head a bit and even being able to move his arms freely.

“You’re a champ, Finn!” Poe praises him before showing him the moves to do actual swimming and being able to move.

Finn is sure he’ll never be the best of swimmers, but by the end of the day he is able to clumsily splash his was from point A, which is Jess, to point B, which is Poe waiting for him with open arms.

“Brilliant,” Poe says squeezing his arms and his voice and smile warm Finn inside out more than the last rays of D’Qar sun could.

When the sun begins to set, the Resistance fighters start to pack and slowly prepare to return to the Torrent base. Finn and Poe are floating on their backs a bit away from the shore, far enough that Finn can just about reach the bottom of the sea with his tip toes. Their fingers brush in the water and they’re both silent, the need to fill the space between them with words non-existent.

Finn is at a complete and utter peace.

“Time to go back you two! No one wants to walk back in the dark!” Ana’s voice reaches them from the beach and Finn wishes it didn’t.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” he sighs.

“Yeah, buddy. Me too,” Poe says, his tone quiet and wistful.

With a mighty groan and plenty of splashing Poe turns on his stomach and grins at Finn.

“Race you to the beach?”

“You’re on, Dameron!” Finn grins back.

Despite Poe obviously holding back, Finn loses. But that’s okay. The kids cheer on him anyway. Chie is not as impressed.

“Stars, Finn, a dog swims better than you,” she says, scrunching her tiny nose as she watches Finn’s pitiful attempts to reach the shore before Poe.

“Don’t listen to her Finn, you’re doing great for a beginner!” Poe tells him.

“You only say that because you don’t want to admit you’re an awful teacher, Commander,” Chie laughs and her and Poe walk toward their clothes bickering.

Finn is the last to leave the beach. For a long time he stands barefoot at the edge of the ocean, his toes being licked by the water, watching the sun as it slowly dips into the water at the horizont.

In a way, Finn never wants to leave.

Here, it is peaceful. Yes, there is darkness in the depths of the ocean, Finn would know, but it’s nothing like the darkness of the Galaxy. Here, the darkness is part of an order. Not the opposite of light, but it’s companion. It doesn’t bring exploding stars or suffering children.

It doesn’t bring death.

Even now, when Finn closes his eyes and concentrates on the monotone splashing of the waves, he can feel the life with an instinct he didn’t even know he had. It’s there deep in the ocean, each pinprick of light and warmth gently pulsing to the rhythm of its tiny heart. Together, they make a symphony, not unlike the one Finn heard when Poe took him outside during a storm that one time.

 _Come, come_ , the ocean chants. It calls to Finn with promises of endless silence and power that slowly, slowly eats into the earth and rock.

 _I’ll come back_ , Finn thinks, fiercely.

Somehow he knows he won’t come back here in his lifetime.

But after his death… Be it tomorrow, or in a hundred years, after his death Finn thinks he will return here.

He read a lot of texts on Force since he’s been with the Resistance and they all agreed on one - the Force is ceaseless, constant, it’s everywhere, it binds the Galaxy together. And every living thing becomes one with it once it dies.

Finn imagines the Force like a river, luminous and full of life, sweeping them all in its current. And all the rivers end in an ocean.

Poe calls to him and finally Finn tears his gaze from the faraway horizon and jogs to his friends, hoping on the sand one-legged to put his shoes on.

“Did you have a good day, buddy?” Poe slings an arm around Finn’s shoulders.

“The best,” Finn smiles, his belly full of content, tea-warm and fresh like the ocean breeze. It shimmers in everyone’s smiles as they set off for the trek back to the Torrent base and it calls to Finn not unlike the ocean, no less tempting and this, Finn doesn’t want to resist.

There’s a small crowd of people waiting for them at the gate. Thule is one of them.

“So, how was swimming?” he says in lieu of a welcome, his wry grin saying what exactly he thinks about such frivolous activities.

“Finn almost drowned!” Amara says cheerfully, passing them on her way to her mechanic friends who stayed on the base.

The grin disappears from Thule’s yellow face as if someone wiped it off. Finn thinks it’s quite funny, but he would never tell Thule that.

“What?!” Thule exclaims and grabs Finn’s shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Finn says, but Thule doesn’t let him go. If anything, his grip tightens and he peers into Finn’s face as if it held some kind of answer, or whatever Thule is looking for. “You need to go to the med-bay.”

“He’s fine,” Kaydel says too, her voice soothing.

“I’ll decide if he’s fine!” Thule snaps, his eyes flashing to Kaydel quickly before he returns to his examination of Finn.

Finn frowns. He really is fine - nothing hurts, he went back to the ocean and walked all the way home. Thule’s reaction is completely inappropriate - and unexpected. Finn is used to Thule being sarcastic, cynical, grumpy, mocking - even a bit mean. But he never saw him angry.

“He’s fine, buddy,” Poe repeats and his voice is quiet, but not soothing like Kaydel, in a more dangerous, controlled way. “Let go.”

“I’m alright, really,” Finn says again, desperately trying to lift the mood. “It’s been hours since it happened, and I’m totally okay. Please don’t drag me off to Kalonia! If she finds out she’ll never let me out of the base ever again!”

Finn’s voice turns pleading at the end and he’s only half joking. He didn’t even think about Kalonia, but now he has a vision of terrifying future where the good doctor puts him in a cage - padded and warm, you see, with enough food and water, and her constant watchful gaze so Finn cannot hurt himself if he tried. He’ll have to make rounds to everyone who was on the trip and make sure the story doesn’t reach Kalonia’s ears. Ever.

It seems to get through to Thule, however, because he finally softens his grip and the scary intensity flows off his face and touch.

“You’re such a moron, baby rebel,” he rolls his eyes and lets Finn’s arms go, before lightly punching his shoulder. “Are you looking for trouble or is the trouble looking for you?”

“We meet in the middle,” Finn grins, happy now the tension is gone. He’s not sure what it was all about, but he thinks he can chalk it up to Thule’s profession. For all his snark, when it comes to it he is a medic through and through and almost as protective of his charges as Kalonia. And Finn is undoubtedly his longest-term charge up to date.

“Finn and the trouble. The match made in heaven,” Kaydel snickers.

“You know it,” Finn winks at her.

Thule rolls his eyes again but he’s smiling. Poe puts his hand on Finn’s back, calm and steady and bright again and a quick look at his face confirms he’s smiling too.

“Hey you guys, did wampas eat your legs?” Amara shouts at them from inside the gate, blissfully unaware of what her little comment caused. Her friends are nowhere to be seen, no doubt caught up on all the gossip and Finn can only hope she didn’t share his drowning adventure with them too. Knowing Amara, it’s a fat hope, that. “Come on, hurry up, I’m starving! The kids will eat all the pudding!”

Indeed, they’re the only ones still standing at the gate, everyone else having moved on to the mess.

They hurry up after Amara, and there’s of course plenty of pudding for everyone, but instead of having it, Finn runs about the mess hall, swearing everyone to secrecy. Only when he’s reasonably sure the news of his unfortunately close introduction to the D’Qar’s ocean won’t reach Kalonia - at least not until he can think of an escape strategy - does he return to his table.

That seems to sap the rest of his energy away and he barely manages to keep upright while Poe finishes his food. He must have noticed Finn’s struggle though, because he speeds it up and the moment he swallows the last bit, he’s turning to Finn.

“I’m gonna fall asleep on the table in a minute. Ready to go to sleep?”

Finn nods gratefully and they bid their goodbyes to the few people who are still sitting about - it seems like Finn is not the only one who’s absolutely exhausted and the dinner was unusually quick and quiet affair.

Finn doesn’t want anything but bed, but Poe convinces him to have a shower.

“Trust me, you’d regret it tomorrow if you don’t and you’ll wake up covered in a crust of dry salt,” he laughs and gently pushes Finn towards the bathroom.

The warm water doesn’t do anything to wake him up. When he leaves the bathroom Poe is just finishing his nightly polish of BB-8, speaking quietly to the droid.

“All done buddy?” he asks while BB-8 rolls to its charging station and with a soft beep Finn now recognises as goodnight powers down. “Right, to the bed with you!”

He claps him on the shoulder gently, picks up a towel and disappears in the bathroom himself.

Finn is ready to fall asleep standing up at this point, but he also wants to wait for Poe and that wins in the end. He knows he would drop right off if he lay in bed, so he goes to make some tea.

"Oh, you're still up?" Poe says when he finally comes out of the bathroom, toweling his hair.

"Barely," Finn smiles and hands Poe a mug.

"Thanks," Poe smiles and sits next to him.

They drink their tea in silence for a bit, their bare feet touching.

"I couldn't find you," Poe eventually breaks the silence. His voice is so very quiet and he looks into his tea as if it was hiding every secret of the Galaxy. "In the water? I couldn't find you. For ages. I almost gave up."

Finn looks at the side of Poe's face but doesn't say anything. He knows Poe needs to say this - that he needed to say it since the moment Finn opened his eyes on the beach - but also that is difficult for him and Finn has to give him time to say it on his own.

"I could no longer hold my breath for longer than few seconds and it was such a long time - and I knew you must be so deep and none of us can swim that deep and I thought... I thought that was it. I thought you were gone. I almost gave up, and then - then you were there. I made the last effort, I reached as deep as I could and in the very last moment I felt something warm so I reached a bit further and there was your arm. But I almost gave up."

"But you didn't," Finn says, reaching over to wrap his fingers loosely around Poe's wrist. "You found me. I'm here."

Poe gives a ghost of a smile and turns his hand so his fingertips barely rest on Finn's pulse point, feather-light.

"I don't know how. I don't understand... You were gone. And then you were suddenly there."

Finn remembers sinking deeper and deeper and the tiny lights all around him and the ocean calling to him. He remembers thinking,  _Poe_. He remembers that one, single plea and an unseen force grabbing him and Finn couldn't tell if it was to drag him up or down, but now he thinks he knows which way it was. He remembers, remembers that one single request at the tip of his tongue just before he was going to die.

_Poe._

"I asked for you," he says simply. "I asked not to die."

Poe shivers slightly and gives Finn another ghost of a smile, this one much more confused.

"Never mind," Finn shakes his head. "Doesn't matter. I'm here. Finish your tea."

When they finally fall to the bed, Poe clings to him extra tight.

Finn doesn’t mind.

 

* * *

 

Finn is a tactile person. He spent twenty-three years not knowing this about himself, much like he didn't know that he liked tea, preferred his showers scalding hot, enjoyed puzzles, or that he had a tendency to start humming under his breath when idle. In the Resistance though, Finn is allowed to figure out what he likes and dislikes and what kind of person he is and it's turning out he's the kind of person who doesn't like sweets much, reacts badly to caffeine and can read a whole book in one afternoon.

Also, hugs. It turns out Finn really, really loves hugs.

Soon, everyone on D’Qar knows that Finn gives the best hugs. The children run to him for cuddles at every chance they get. When the pilots lose at a game of sabaac, Finn will pat their backs. When young cadets feel scared, he will hold their hand while he listens to their fears without judgement. Whoever lost a friend or just feels lonely, Finn will let them lean on his shoulder. If a boyfriend or girlfriend dumps someone, he will sling an arm around their shoulders and buy them a drink.

Affection is given freely in the resistance and Finn craves it like a flower craves the sun. One type of affection, however, eludes him. A kiss.

Finn has never been kissed.

The subject comes up when he helps Thule sort out the new shipment of medication.

“What?” the Twi'lek exclaims. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”

Finn frowns, shakes his head. He knows Thule doesn’t mean it like that, would never mock him for it, but he still feels like a child who tried to sneak in the class with older children and got caught.

“Seriously?” Thule puts the last of the fever strips into the box. “That’s two hundred,” he tells Finn and he obediently ticks it off on the list of supplies.

Thule picks another box, and his forehead is still creased, lekku curling on the ends like they do when something puzzles Thule, but he unpacks the box in silence and for a moment Finn thinks he’s off the hook. Then Thule abruptly turns to him, hands on his hips and head tilted.

“I would think someone like you would have to chase them off with a stick. I even advised Dameron to get a big one…”

“Uh…” Finn suddenly realizes Thule isn’t surprised that Finn didn’t kiss anyone, he is surprised no one _kissed Finn_. That’s… New. And confusing. And maybe flattering?

“Yeah, uh. No one told you you’re a handsome specimen?”

Oh. Yes, definitely flattering.

“I… Well. How exactly do you ask for a kiss, anyway?” Finn says. His face is very, very hot.

“You don’t really _ask_ for a kiss… Come on, really? No one just came to you and grabbed your shirt and showed you a good time?” Thule’s expression turns contemplative and he touches the end of his lekku, rubs it between his fingers. “Not even Ana? Well, she’s not quite the type… But I thought Dameron is. Hm? Are you keeping secrets from me, Finbo?”

“What has Poe got to do with anything?” Finn splutters.

His face is positively burning now and Finn goes to check his list of supplies again to hide his face from Thule. He fumbles with the pen and it slips his suddenly clumsy fingers and clatters on the floor.

“Oooh, baby rebel,” Thule croons. His smirk widens like he knows something Finn doesn’t and he steps closer. When Finn lifts his head, he can see separate orange and yellow patterns on Thule’s cheeks. “No kisses for you, then?”

He takes another step and Finn wants to run, but he also wants to take step too, to come closer.

“You wanna?” Thule asks playfully.

“Wanna what?” Finn asks, throat dry.

It’s not a real question and Thule knows it. He doesn’t make another move though, not until Finn gives a miniscule nod, all that he can manage in his current breathless state. Only then the Twi’lek makes another step.

“This is flirting, darling. _That’s_ how you ask for a kiss.”

And if the intent wasn’t clear before (which it was), it is now, with Thule’s eyes boring into Finn’s, intense and burning with something happy and something completely unknown to Finn. His whole being is a fire different from the sarcasm and kindness that usually fuels it, its flames licking at the tips of Finn’s fingers, a promise of something delicious that is just a little bit dangerous.

Thule lifts a hand, puts his palm on Finn’s cheek and his grin is big and gleeful. Finn feels like he’s at the middle of some joke of Thule’s, but he also doesn’t care, because Thule’s palm is cold and dry and strangely comfortable on his face. Like it sat there before, many times, and dug a little spot for itself, so it feels light and familiar. Finn leans into it and nods again.

And then Thule kisses him.

It’s… Well. It’s lovely, really, Finn thinks, all warm and close. And Finn likes the closeness. He likes the easy affection that bleeds from Thule’s palm on Finn’s cheek and his lips on Finn’s into his skin. It swirls there for a bit and then trickles down, low into his stomach and it sits there solid and delightful. It’s all very calm, like a hot bath, or like tea with honey, or like sunfruit left on the sun all softened and warm. Then Thule parts his lips, worms into Finn’s mouth, slots their lips together and that is less comfortable, but much more exciting. Finn’s not exactly sure what to do with his mouth, not to say hands and the rest of his body, but his mouth is tingling pleasantly and that warmth and affection is now curling in Finn’s stomach, dancing around and tickling him from inside. It’s all a little bit wet and a little bit foreign and a little bit invasive, but most of all, it’s over a little bit too soon.

Someone coughs from the direction of the door and Finn jumps away as if he got burned. Thule’s eyes are dancing with amusement and he grins until he looks who it is standing at the door and his expression falls.

“Finn. General Organa is looking for you,” Poe says.

His voice is quiet and flat and so very wrong. Finn panics.

“Did something happen?” he asks, disaster after disaster playing through his mind.

“No, everything’s fine. She just wants to talk to you about the next supply mission to Stewjon, is all. Everything’s _fine_ ,” Poe spits the last word as if it burned his tongue. “Come quickly.”

With that, Poe turns on his heel and marches out of the med-bay, without waiting for Finn, without saying goodbye to Thule, without so much as a glance back - without anything Poe would normally do. Finn can’t remember a single time he’s had an interaction with Poe in which Poe wouldn’t smile at him. But everything has to happen once, it seems.

“Dammit,” Thule says. His eyes, when he looks at Finn, are regretful.

Finn can hardly remember the last time the Resistance fighters confused him like this, but it must have been the first month with them. There were misunderstandings and confusion after, but until now he never felt like something completely eluded him, like he was trying to hold water in an open palm and it all spilled through his fingers and Finn was left puzzled, staring at an empty hand.

“Thule, what-...”

“You better go,” Thule interrupts him, and Thule has never done that before. Thule is always kind to Finn when there’s something to be explained and respects his questions and gives him all the time to figure out his words when something confuses Finn.

But this time, he only adds to his confusion, when he lightly pushes at Finn’s shoulder, maneuvering him out of the med-bay. Finn is too shocked to do anything but let himself to be pushed out like a puppet.

“The General is waiting for you,” Thule says, but Finn knows that’s not what Thule really wants to say, especially when he adds, much quieter:

“You really don’t know anything, baby rebel.”

 

* * *

 

Finn is a tactile person and affection is given so freely in the Resistance, that Finn doesn’t even notice he craves one particular person’s touch more than others until it stops.

Poe Damerson was the first person to show Finn that touch can be good and gentle, a natural thing that Finn is allowed to desire, to give and receive. Poe Dameron is also a tactile person, but from the very beginning he was twice as touchy with Finn as if he could, in all his perfection, tell that it’s exactly what Finn wants and needs before Finn himself knew. Later, when Poe has learned about what Finn’s life was like before the Resistance, his touch only increased, as if he was trying to give Finn back everything he was deprived of as a child.

Then, one day, he stops.

Where he claps his fellow pilots on the shoulder while passing them in a hall, he only gives Finn a smile. Where he steers people with a gentle hand on their backs, he only points to Finn the direction. He doesn’t flinch or anything when they accidentally brush against each other, but he doesn’t hang his arm around Finn’s shoulders when they’re sitting together anymore. He is still Finn’s friend and he tells him jokes and teaches him all Finn doesn’t know and sits next to him in a mess hall, but now he’s careful to put at least an inch of a space between them at all times. They still share a room, but Poe goes to sleep in his own bed each night without a fail now. He only hugs him when an unexpected nightmare makes Finn cry out in the middle of night. Afterwards, Poe climbs to the bed next to him and holds him until Finn drops off, and in those moments Finn thinks everything is back to normal. But when he wakes up in the morning, he’s alone, Poe softly snoring back in his bed across the room.

Finn supposes it was long coming.

It doesn’t stop him from being disappointed. It doesn’t stop him missing something, although he knows it’s silly. He can’t miss Poe. Poe is _right there_.

The thing is, Finn has always known this to be an option. He saved Poe’s life and Poe Dameron is not one to be ungrateful. Poe Dameron is kind and good and deeply compassionate. He wouldn’t leave poor, scared, confused boy who _saved his life_  to fend for himself. He would never not stop and help another being in distress. The man repairs broken droids without an owner in his spare time, for galaxy’s sake!

And that’s what Finn is, isn’t he? A broken creature without a friend.

Well, that’s what he used to be. And Poe couldn’t leave him alone in such a state. But now Finn has his own friends and hobbies and purpose. He’s healed and whole and knows almost everything about the life outside of the First Order. He doesn’t need Poe’s unshaking support anymore. So it’s time to start weaning him off of it.

That’s what Poe must be doing.

The thing is, even though Finn always knew he might be just a pity case for Poe Dameron, as the time went by, he let himself hope that maybe it wasn’t like that. And in the end, he shoved his doubts to the back of his mind to be ridiculed and then forgotten. In the end, Poe’s friendship and affection just became one of The Things Finn Took for Granted.

So it’s no wonder that it hurts just a little bit when it turns out it was true after all. Maybe more than a little bit.

But Finn pushes that hurt aside. Poe is still his trusty companion and he should enjoy it while it lasts. And after that, he oughts to be forever grateful for everything Poe has given him. He now has a home and friends, a purpose, even the first kiss, and it’s all thanks to Poe.

Maybe if Finn was a different person, if he had a normal upbringing and truly knew everything about the world, as he believes he does, he would think about this a bit more. He might even link his first kiss to the moment when Poe became distant and with that, more realisations would come. Possibly, those realisations about himself, and about Poe, would come even before and none of this mess would happen.

Maybe Finn and Poe would live happily ever after.

But as it is, when the little light in Finn’s chest diminishes a bit from all of this, becomes just a tad less warm and more still, Finn shakes it off, believing he never really deserved any of it in the first place.

 

* * *

 

Jess’s birthday party is nothing like his was.

They have another bonfire outside and it’s not even like Finn’s welcoming party was.

It’s loud and probably every single Resistance fighter is out there, even children allowed to stay up a bit longer than they usually would, roasting bread and balls of soft, sticky sugar paste. Jess’s cake is three times as big as Finn’s was, and pink, and after it’s been cut and eaten, children are herded to beds, and there is alcohol.

Finn remembers his first experience with alcohol all too well and steers clear of it, sticking to sweet berry juice and maybe a bit of fruity ale from Bespin.

He spends most of the night in company of Thule and Amara, the only two sober beings at the party.

“If they knew what it does to their brains, they wouldn’t be drinking anyway,” Thule says with his nose up. Amara pokes him in the ribs.

“He’s just jealous because he can’t drink,” she whispers to Finn. “Twi’leks have awful reaction to alcohol.”

Finn is very selfishly very glad they do.

None of Finn’s friends from the ground troops are invited, nor is Ana or Mundo and Lyn is away on a mission, so the only people beside the pilots Finn is friends with are Bastian and Kaydel, and they’re preoccupied with each other. And the pilots, Finn steers clear off.

He has been for the past few days, partly because he feels like there’s something breaking between him and Poe and he doesn’t want the pilots to pick up on it, nosy bunch that they are. There would be questions and assurances and attempts to fix whatever is wrong, which would be extremely difficult, as Finn can’t put a finger on what it is. They would mean well, they always do, but Finn knows Poe gets annoyed when people dabble too much into his personal business, and Finn actually does too. Partly he thinks that when he and Poe finally go on their separate ways, Finn might not be allowed to keep Poe’s friends. He doesn’t know what rules apply in friendship in situation like this.

And lastly, while Poe gets steadily more and more drunk (more, in fact, than Finn has seen him before), he gathers more and more admirers in his orbit, as he with each new drink becomes funnier and looser and more touchy. Poe always becomes even more touchy when he’s had a drink, but this time Finn doesn’t think it’s sweet or amusing, because this time Poe touches everyone, _everyone_ but Finn. He doesn’t throw a single glance Finn’s way. Not that Finn is watching.

Okay, he _is_ watching. He really tries not to, to pay his full attention to Amara and Thule, who are both perfectly funny and charming as always, especially Thule, who Finn half-hoped could maybe kiss him again. At least that’s what he thought before the party, but now they’re sitting together, their shoulder brushing every once in a while, Finn finds he doesn’t particularly desire kissing him anymore. He wouldn’t really say no to a kiss, because it was _nice_ , but he would accept a kiss from Thule as readily as from, let’s say Jess, who has her nails painted bright yellow today and hair loose on her shoulders and looks all in all gorgeous, or Bastian, with his easy smile, if it wasn’t entirely aimed at Kaydel, or even Snap.

Alright, maybe not Snap.

The point is, now that Finn is sitting next to Thule, he doesn’t at all want to think about how to get him to kiss Finn again, not when he can instead stare at the opposite side of the room, where Poe is laughing and shimmying his hips into the rhythm of Jess’ favourite band, and being his usual beautiful self, all the way _across the entire room from Finn_.

Thule and Amara don’t seem to be bothered by his lack of attention at all, perfectly content to talk to each other, slipping into Twi’leki as the night progresses and Finn completely gives up on conversation, instead laying his head on folded hands and following oblivious Poe with his eyes.

He stays curled up on his chair even when Amara and Thule call it a night and leave.

“Don’t stay too long, hm?” Amara says, but Finn can tell she doesn’t expect him to follow her on that.

Thule only pats his shoulder with something like sympathy on the tip of his fingers and Finn hides his face in the crook of his arm for a moment after they leave, because he must be truly pathetic if even Thule pities him.

It must be well after midnight when the party begins to wind down - except for Poe, who seem to have more energy and alcohol in his veins than anyone else - and Jess materialises out of nowhere next to Finn’s elbow.

He jumps a little, so absorbed in his little stalking game he hasn’t noticed her until she drops on a chair next to his.

“Take him home!” she whines at Finn.

Finn kind of wants to tell her he isn’t Poe’s handler and Poe is perfectly capable of taking himself home, but Jess knows all of that, and she knows Poe, better than Finn does, and if she thinks Poe’s had enough, he probably did.

It’s not at all because Finn wanted to take Poe away, hide him in his vulnerable state from all the people making eyes at him from around the room. It’s not at all because he was just waiting for the excuse to do so.

He lets Jess pull him out of his seat and steer him in Poe’s direction. He also lets her talk to him.

“Right, Dameron, it’s bed for you,” she says and for all Jess’ dislike of children, she would fit right next to Ana in the nursery with that tone of voice. Snap, who is supporting Poe (or possibly they’re supporting each other, Finn can’t tell because Snap has an uncanny ability to appear completely sober even when he is anything but), nods furiously in agreement.

“You are a fun-spoil!” Poe tells her seriously, but then he giggles and lets himself to be tipped into Finn’s arms.

“Finn!” he says, his grin happy and positively blinding from where it’s right in Finn’s face. “Where were you the whole evenin’ buddy! ‘Was missing ya!”

And then he hugs Finn and happily burrows his warm, warm face into the crook of Finn’s neck. And Finn melts into the hug himself, so familiar, so comfortable, so _absent_ in the last weeks he could cry, but he could also cry because he is beginning to think he should have let Jess to deal with Poe to save himself further heartbreak.

What else could come out of this than heartbreak? Just when he was getting used to life without Poe’s warmth, he’ll have to walk through half the base with Poe plastered all over him.

Just brilliant.

But Poe behaves. He’s leaning on Finn just a tad too heavily, but he keeps his hands to himself. Halfway to their room, he starts humming under his breath, a slow, pleasant melody Finn doesn’t recognise. The base is all silent around them and Finn enjoys this despite himself. A little moment of quiet and stillness, just him and Poe and the sound of their steps and breaths and Poe’s humming and his warmth on Finn’s side. The ball of light inside Finn sparks to life and sways calmly to Poe’s quiet singing. A little moment, just like hundreds Finn and Poe shared before, a fleeting one Finn never quite appreciated before they were taken from him. He is appreciating this one thoroughly.

Suddenly Poe stops.

Finn, tangled as he is with him, is forced to stop too.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, quiet to not wake the sleeping Resistance. He turns his head to look at Poe and the light in his chest, perfectly warm in a long time of tepid, weak shine, freezes.

Poe is no longer smiling. Instead, his face is contorted in a grimace Finn has never seen on him - and has even troubles to identify.

He’s seen Poe’s face angry and sad and concerned. He’s seen it deep in concentration and befuddled and even scared. Most often, he’s seen it happy.. He can recognise expressions of curiosity and happiness, sleepy content, restless energy, pride, delight with eyes crinkled at something Finn did. But he has seen Poe upset before.

What he hasn’t seen is Poe truly disgusted, furious, hateful. He didn’t even think Poe could be like that - but now, mouth taut with teeth bared just an inch and brows drawn so deep Finn can barely peer into Poe’s stormy eyes, Poe is more human, in the ugliest sense of humanity, than Finn ever knew him.

He’s only glad that expression isn’t aimed at him.

Instead, Poe is staring at the door to the med-bay as if it murdered his entire family, with intensity way too focused for the state of drunkenness he’s in.

“What’s wrong?” Finn asks again and hates when his voice wobbles just a bit.

When Poe looks at him, his expression softens for a moment, like it’s an automatic reaction, then it saddens, and then comes back in full force.

“So you ‘n Thule ‘re boyfriends now, huh?” he drawls, his voice strangely quiet and so, so mean. The storm in his eyes crackles angrily across Finn’s shoulders where Poe’s arm is still slung, sends unpleasant sparkling bolts down Finn’s spine. His scar stays cold though. Cold like Kylo Ren’s anger, like snow on Starkiller, like everything ugly and hateful in the Galaxy.

And Finn doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like the pain of it and this whole situation he doesn’t understand and most of all, he doesn’t like this Poe.

He doesn’t _know_ this Poe.

He throws Poe’s arm off and steps back.

And then Poe grabs the front of Finn’s shirt, drags him back in and presses his mouth to Finn.

Everything stops.

Its nothing like Finn’s first kiss. Where kiss from Thule was clumsy on Finn’s part and awkward in the most pleasant, tingly way, this one is clumsy because of Poe, and awkward in the worst way in that it’s almost violent. Where Thule’s kiss was gentle and warm, Poe’s kiss is searing hot, close to being unbearable. It's burning, burning like a dying star, and Finn leans into it, because stars go out in a supernova after all, and Finn is all too happy to end like that.

Poe's hand presses into the small of his back and his smell is everyone. For a moment, it's all Finn wanted, it's perfect and he lifts his hands to cup Poe's face.

But in the next moment everything tips over. Finn tastes alcohol on Poe's lips, bitter and thick, but it's not just alcohol. There's something else, equally bitter but beyond taste in the kiss. It invades Finn's mouth, travels down his throat, nearly choking him. Poe's nails dig into Finn's back almost painfully and his scar twinges. Finn remembers, that when the stars die, they burn cold. And he remembers they're standing in front of the med-bay and Poe danced with half a dozen other people this evening and their smell still lingers at the base of his throat and he is so, so drunk.

And instead of touching Poe's face, Finn moves his hands to his chest and shoves him off.

For just a little bit they stand looking at each other, both panting. Poe is frowning and part of it is confused, but part of it is mean, mean like his voice when he asked if Thule was Finn's boyfriend.

"Poe, you are drunk," Finn states clearly.

And Poe lets out a bark of a laugh, his eyes squinted in an expression Finn has never seen on Poe.

"So that's how it is," he says, voice low and scratchy as if it had to fight to come out of Poe's throat and hit every bump and tooth on the way out.

And then without another word Poe turns on his heel and marches down the corridor, faster and more steady than Finn thought he could.

Finn walks after him slower, thinking Poe needs his space. For some reason, it feels like Finn did something wrong. He lets Poe disappear behind the corner and tiptoes down the corridors forming an apology, even though he isn't quite sure what he should be apologising for. But when he finally gets to their room, it’s empty. BB-8 is charging in its corner, but Poe is nowhere to be seen. Finn even looks into the bathroom, even if he knows with absolute certainty Poe is not here.

He also knows Poe will not come back tonight.

He doesn’t have any nightmares without Poe curled up beside him, but that’s only because he doesn’t sleep at all.

 

* * *

 

There is light and there is darkness.

Finn stands exactly where they meet.

The light is soft, inviting. The darkness is cold, terrifying.

However, the darkness hides Poe in it.

Finn isn’t sure how he knows this. But he does. With absolute certainty. So he leaves the light behind without a second thought. He walks into the dark.

In a moment, the darkness swallows him whole.

“Poe!” Finn yells. “Poe!”

But the darkness swallows that too.

“Poe!” Finn shouts still.

He is dreadfully cold. He hunches around the light in his chest, the only thing that’s still warm. Poe doesn’t even have that. He musts be so cold. Finn has to find him before it’s too late.

But he moves so slow. It’s like when he was searching for Poe on Jakku. His armour heavy on his shoulders, even if he’s only wearing his pyjamas now. His feet drowning in sand, even if the floor is smooth and empty.

And his heart slowly consumed by a complete despair.

The more frantic he gets the more difficult it is to move. The darkness is like a syrup around him. Shadows swim around his ankles and trip his feet.

“Poe!!” Finn shouts as loud as he can.

Poe doesn’t answer.

Poe doesn’t answer.

_Poe doesn’t answer._

Finn falls to his knees. Tears roll down his face. He lost Poe. Not to a stupid kiss. Not to First Order’s cruelty. Not even to the pilot getting bored with him.

He lost Poe to the eternal darkness. Not just Poe’s body. Or Poe’s friendship. He lost the very essence of Poe.

Even now, as the light in his chest begins to cool down, Poe is disappearing from his consciousness. Finn tries to grasp the memories. But it’s impossible. It’s like trying to catch floating strands of a spiderweb.

“POE!” Finn screams for the last time, before the name itself is lost in the darkness.

 

“Poe!” Finn sits up in his bed with sweat beading on his face and Poe’s name on his lips.

The contents of the dream are already fading from his mind, but the cold terror remains. Finn clutches at his chest, struggling to breathe. Something is missing. Something _important_ is missing…

Only when Poe grabs his arms, suddenly materialising in front of him, and the ball of light returns to Finn’s chest with Poe’s touch, Finn realises that was the thing he was missing. And it’s back now so perhaps Finn should be relieved, but it only panics him further. He didn't even know _he could loose it_ …

“Finn! Finn, calm down! Come on, Finn, breathe with me!” Poe’s voice eventually cuts through the fog of fear and panic that surround him like a lantern. Finn follows its flickering light until he sees Poe’s face in front of him, eyes wide and expression tight with worry.

“That’s right, Finn, just breathe. I’m here,” Poe encourages him.

Finn takes a breath, two. He struggles to move, but he pulls through to lift his hands and grasp Poe’s forearms. That touch seems to break the spell, because then Finn’s body relaxes and he lets his head drop to rest against Poe’s collarbone.

It’s been so long since Finn has been enveloped in Poe’s warmth and scent like this. There’s still horrifying sense of loss buried between Finn’s ribs, deep in the marrow of his bones, but despite that Finn sags against Poe and enjoys feeling close to him again.

“Are you okay now?” Poe asks way too soon and makes to pull away.

Finn tightens his hold on him. He can’t say anything, but he doesn’t want Poe to go.

Poe freezes for a moment.

“Okay,” he says finally, his voice heavy, sinking to their ankles, but he stays. “Okay. Let’s lie down.”

And he maneuvers them back onto the bed, lying side by side just like they used to.

Finn still doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say. To beg Poe to stay feels incredibly embarrassing and selfish, when he can clearly feel Poe’s reluctance. But he can’t let Poe leave again. Even if he has Poe just for this one night, Finn wants him more than he ever wanted anything.

There’s a chasm, dark and cold, that’s opened within him, and the little light Finn is now so afraid to loose hovers precariously at its side. Finn can’t grasp it and pull it to safety, so he clings to Poe instead and it’s almost as good. Finn hopes and hopes Poe doesn’t leave.

Poe doesn’t leave and Finn falls asleep with tear tracks on his face, only to be woken up shortly after by double beeping of his and Poe’s comms.

“W’at?” Poe sits up blearily behind him and Finn hurries to untangle their legs.

The room is dark. Not even BB-8's charging station blinks in the darkness, the droid being in the hands of a droid-master having updated maps and new programs uploaded into him as a part of his yearly update.

The comms beeping this early in the morning - and for both of them - can’t mean anything good, but Finn gives himself a second to be pleased that Poe stayed with him the whole night, even fell asleep. Maybe their relationship isn’t as irreparable as Finn thought.

Poe darts to the pile of his clothes to fish his comm out of one of his pockets, while Finn stays sitting on the bed, his comm tidily sitting on his bedside table.

“It’s Finn,” he says into it, running one hand over messy hair. Absently, he notes he needs a haircut.

“Good morning, officer,” Major Ematt greets him and Finn immediately sits straighter.

“Sir!”

“I regret to wake you this early,” Ematt continues. “But we have a bit of a situation. Nothing to worry about, t least not yet. But we could use your expertise. There’s been reported First Order activity on a Mid Rim planet. The planet isn’t of any importance, nor it is populated, which makes it even stranger, and it’s still too close for comfort. We’re launching an intel gathering mission immediately.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Finn agrees.

Looking at Poe’s hunched eyebrows where he is talking to his own comm, he’s sure he knows who’ll be flying the mission and the awful feeling of fear and loss from the night before returns. He shakes his head and concentrates on the comm.

“My words exactly,” Ematt is saying. “Report to Control Room I in thirty minutes.”

“Sir,” Finn says and switches off the comm.

Poe finishes his conversation a second later and their eyes meet across the room.

“You flying?” Finn asks and Poe nods.

“You supervising?” Poe asks back and Finn gives a nod of his own.

For a moment, it’s just like before, Finn and Poe communicating with minimum ords and meaningful glances and understanding each other perfectly. Finn can already see Poe’s lips pulling up in understanding, reassuring grin, before he visibly stops himself and turns his back to Finn.

“Better hurry,” he murmurs.

Finn has to school the expression that was already forming on his face to answer Poe’s smile. He quickly throws on some clothes - the Resistance’s uniform code is very lax at the best of times and Finn isn’t on duty - and goes to pour hot water over Poe’s caf. It’s so ingrained in him, all these movements. Poe always puts the kettle on before disappearing into the fresher, trusting Finn to finish it for him with the exact amount of milk and sugar Poe likes, so Poe can have it while Finn uses the bathroom. But this time Finn stops himself from picking the cup and handing it to Poe. He leaves is steaming on the table for Poe to find and there’s no smiles and soft “thanks, buddy”, no brush of their fingers over the handle as the switch in the fresher.

While Finn washes up, Poe usually gets their things ready, two piles of stuff they each need for the day, two pairs of shoes lined up in front of the door.

He does it today too, maybe, like Finn, so used to their routine he didn’t even notice what he was doing until he held Finn’s jacket in his hands. He even hands it to Finn, just like usual. And gain, for a second, everything is so familiar. Poe’s caf sits, unfinished, at the table. Finn’s bed is messy, with two dents in the pillow. Two pairs of shoes sit in front of the door and Poe’s hand is offering Finn his jacket.

But then the illusion shatters, when Finn realises that no idle chatter fills the room and when he takes his jacket, there’s no smile and customary pat on his shoulder from Poe.

It’s all wrong. So, so wrong.

They leave the room, Finn pushing at the door to make sure it’s locked, and then follows Poe to the hangar automatically. Only when they're standing in front of the Black One, he realises he again let his body take over his brain, forgot for a while that everything is different now, and he doesn't know what to do. Their customary hug seems to be out of the question. Poe looks equally out of sorts. He purposefully doesn't look at Finn when he grabs his helmet from Amara and she, always sensitive to the subtle changes in mood, scurries away.

Poe throws Finn a quiet glance, then goes to his fighter without a word.

“Be careful, yeah?” Finn calls after him, unable to help himself.

Poe stops. Looks at him.  

“My lucky charm,” he says quietly and a small, tender smiled tugs at his lips. He finally looks Finn in the eye, unwavering as always. “Don't worry. I'll be back. And then we'll talk.”

Finn merely nods, his mouth dry, and watches Poe climb into his fighter. The blue painted BB-9 seem strange and wrong at the top of the Black One, a full stop after this whole series of wrongs.

Finn tucks himself in the corner of the hangar, watching from the distance as Poe does his pre-flight, trying to ignore the swooping in his stomach. The light usually residing behind his ribs drops there and wobbles around in something like panic.

Finn allows himself to watch until Poe’s ship is only a small dot on the horizon and then he springs to the control room.

 _We'll talk_. What's that even supposed to mean?

He’s late, the communication checks already done and Poe gone to the hyperspace. Major Ematt gives him a look but doesn’t say anything and Finn sits next to Kaydel. There's not much to do until Poe comes out of hyperspace.

”I can tell you and Poe are still fighting,” she says, pitying.

“We're not fighting,” Finn says irritably. Because they're not, that's the whole problem. Argument would be over now - arguments, Finn can deal with. He can handle shouting and name-calling and he knows how to apologise. However this, whatever this stalemate between him and Poe is, he has no idea what to do with.

Kaydel only looks at him with her big eyes full of support.

“I don't know what's happening,” Finn sights. “I don’t know what went wrong so I can't fix it.”

“You need to just talk to Poe,” Kaydel says.

“Yeah, he said we'll talk when he comes back,” Finn snorts, frustrated.

“Yup, you do that. It pains me to watch you two like this.”

“Oh, it pains _you_?” Finn says, trying to insert as much sarcasm to his voice as possible. He must be successful, because Bastian pats his shoulder as he passes by.

“You're getting really good at this sarcasm thing, kid,” he says with a grin. “And for the record, it pains all of us. So you guys hurry up and make up, and if Dameron breaks your heart somehow, just say a word and he’ll find all of his private communication suddenly public.”

“Officer Bastian!” Ematt growls his disapproval.

“Okay, _some_ of his communication,” Bastian corrects with a smirk.

Ematt shakes his head in disapproval, but when Finn looks at him, he sees him hiding his own small smile, so maybe it isn’t quite a disapproval. Actually, the whole room is giving him identical looks that are combination of pity and support, amusement and fierce protectiveness.

“Oh, kriff me,” Finn groans, hiding his flushed face in his hands.

This is embarrassing, but it's also strangely nice.

 _This is famil_ y, a Poe-like voice whispers to him from that warm spot in his chest that now grew twice its usual size. _This is family._

Luckily, Poe comes out of hyperspace just then and checks-in before his descent to the planet’s orbit and the atmosphere in the command centre shifts back to professional.

“It doesn’t seem like they’re on the offensive,” Poe observes through the comms and Finn can picture him perfectly, peering through the cockpit, straining his neck and eyes to see as best as he can from the height and probably awkward angle he keeps to stay hidden.

“It almost looks like…” Poe pauses and when he speaks again, his voice is flat and distant. “A training facility.”

The cold from Poe’s voice seeps into Finn’s bones. He can picture this perfectly too. The sprawling grey buildings of barracks, drab, equally grey surroundings and thousands of tiny figures, one just like the other dressed in small stormtrooper armour and marching in perfect synch. He has never seen it from the bird’s view, but he can imagine.

There’s a brief silence in the control room and then Poe continues.

“There are children,” he says. It sounds as if every word was fighting its way out of his throat.

“Do you have visual, Commander?” Major Ematt asks. Even his calm sounds forced. It prickles at the back of Finn’s neck, like dozen of rubber bands snapping out of their tension.

Still not as much as everyone purposefully _not_ looking at him.

“Confirmed,” Poe answers. “I have clear visuals.”

The weight in Finn’s stomach gets heavier and heavier with each second. He’s thousand light years away, but it almost feels like he’s in the cockpit with Poe. He can see Poe’s tense knuckles, white where they grip the ship’s controls. He can feel his horror and tension, all ready to snap.

But physically, he’s sitting frozen in the control room of the Torrent base on D’Qar and he can’t take Poe’s hand. He can’t shake him and say:

“They’re not me.”

He can’t beg:

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Observe, Black One,” Ematt says, his thought obviously going in the same direction as Finn’s. “Remember the mission. Gather intel. Do not engage.”

It’s not even a second later, certainly not long enough for the Major’s command to transfer across the Galaxy, when Poe says in a tight voice:

“I will have to engage.”

If the atmosphere in the room wasn’t so deadly serious, Finn imagines there would be a collective groan and a couple of facepalms just then.

As it is, Ematt grabs his headset and pushes the microphone to his lips, as if that could carry the steel  behind his words right into stubborn mug of Poe Dameron.

“I repeat, Black One, do not make contact!”

“You don't understand,” Poe answers, despair colouring his tone pearl-grey. “There is an execution going to happen right now! I can see it! They're making _the kids watch it_!”

“Black leader, _no_!” Ematt orders, but Finn knows Poe too well to believe for a second Major’s command will have any effects.

"I'm approaching," Poe answer and the entire room scrambles to try and assist the reckless pilot the best they can. Finn can see from his seat Major Ematt squeezing his jaw so tight Finn worries he'll destroy his teeth. He is very angry and Finn thinks Poe will be in so much trouble, when he comes back.

 Oh yeah. So much trouble. When he comes back.

"Just give it few shots and fly back into the clouds. Just provide a quick distraction and get the hell out of there," Bastian chants into his comm desperately.

"And forget the mission objective, leave the planet's orbit immediately when they spot you and enter the hyper space as quick as you can," Ematt orders, clearly attending some of Statura's classes on how to pick his battles and trying commands he knows will be more successful with the stubborn pilot. "Don't let them track you!"

"Understood," Poe says. 

"You're on their radars," Kaydel says, clutching her hands to her chest.

"Too low for the shields though," Poe answers, grin in his voice. No one in the control room is grinning. "Ready to shoot-..."

There's a bang. Everyone in the room jumps a bit. 

Finn doesn't think he did. He feels like he's been glued to his seat. He looks at the monitor in front of him where the little dot that is Poe, stars and stars away, blinks ominous red.

Finn knows it before Poe's voice comes through, wobbly and weak with static cracking through it.

"I've been hit!"

"Can you eject? Black leader?" Ematt takes a step forward.

"What's your altitude? We lost contact with Black One's computer!" Kaydel yells at the same time.

For the longest time here are no answers.

“Black leader. Black leader, answer.”

Nothing. Just the white space hum of the Galaxy between them and Poe... Finn’s inside feels like that too, quiet and still and yet loud and chaotic. He stands up in the midst of techs and dispatchers and strategists and captains and majors and admirals. They move around, talk into the comms, repeating Poe’s call sign and Finn stands amidst that quiet and still.

Poe doesn’t answer.

“ _Commander-..._!” Kaydel is the first one to break, stopping herself just in time to keep Poe’s name silent. Saying his rank is bad enough if the enemy is listening to their chatter. No one even looks at her, the room swallowed by panic, and that’s all the approval Finn needs. There’s exactly five seconds of space noise - Finn is counting - and then he says, loud and clear:

“Poe.”

It breaks the chatter in the room, everyone freezes as if that word was a sorcery. And maybe it is, because Finn certainly doesn’t recognise the voice that said it. He knows he opened his mouth. He knows he intended to speak. But he can’t reconcile that crooked, empty sound with his usual timbre, with the way Poe’s name normally rolls of his tongue in a tumble of starshine and engine roar. His fingertips are cold. The light inside him is cold too and shrunk into a tiny pinprick that sits surprisingly heavy and unmoving at the pit of his stomach. And Finn knows what it means, he knows what it means, no, he knows…

This isn’t a dream. Poe doesn’t answer.

“Poe,” he says again and this time his voice breaks, and on every single syllable.

And _Poe doesn’t answer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said it was gonna get sad. And you've seen nothing yet.
> 
> I'm racing to edit the last chapter so I can post it before the Episode VIII comes out tomorrow. I'm not a huge fan of AUs and I know after I see the movie and this'll inevitably becomes one, I will loose every interest in posting it, so good luck to me and hopefully I'll manage before I see the film at midnight.  
> As before, English isn't my first language, I don't have a beta, sorry for mistakes! Thanks to everyone who left kudos or commented (especially to those who commented - I really wanted to answer but then life happened and time disappeared!), you can do it again, it makes me so happy you have no idea.


	3. Chapter 3

 

_Part Three: How to Lose, Mourn and Love_

 

 

It’s been eight days since Poe went MIA.

Finn hasn’t been to his and Poe’s quarters once in those eight days.

He works a lot. On the fourth day, Jess returned from her mission with broken wrist, bruised torso and concussion the size of a smaller moon, and Finn stayed in the medbay for two nights while she slept. With all the pilots gone or in a similar state, it feels like it’s something Finn should do, this role of concerned friend, of silent guardian, he somehow inherited. He was, however, gone before dawn each day, before she had a chance to wake up and ask:

“What are you doing, Finn?”

Not because her dismissal would hurt, but because he can’t say:

“Because Poe would do this, but he’s gone now, and someone should.”

Because he can’t say:

“Because there is a hole where Poe used to be and maybe if I fill it well enough, if I pretend he isn’t gone from our room, no one will notice. Maybe if I’m good enough, I will forget. Maybe if I’m good enough, he will come home.”

On the sixth day of Poe being MIA, Jess finds him.

He’s out in the far corner next to a landing strip, tucked behind a stone with his lunch tray next to him. He finds he can’t stand mess hall these days. It’s too quiet without Poe. And Finn knows he’s not just imagining things. The whole base mourns their star pilot. And they all keep giving him these, these _looks_ , like he mourns the most. Like he has a special right to do so.

But he doesn’t. He really doesn’t.

“Finn,” Jess says, her standing form looming over him.

Finn knows that Jess knows, obviously, someone must have told her and her eyes are red, her hair unbrushed, pulled into a messy bun.

Jess, Jess has a right to mourn. She’s known Poe for ages, after all.

She sits next to him and Finn wishes fervently she would just leave. He can’t offer his condolences, he can’t…

“The General told me you were sitting with me in the medbay,” Jess says.

Finn nods, looks at her. Jess’ expression is tight, pinched. Bruises bloom on the side of her head. If he reached, he could touch her grief, Finn thinks, it’s so palpable, cloaking her in a cloud of stillness and silence.

But she meets his eyes calmly, offers a tiny smile.

“Thank you,” she says very, very quietly. “You didn’t have to do it, but I’m glad you did. It can get so lonely. Empty.”

Finn has never heard Jessika’s voice to be so quiet. Solemn. It’s awful.

He nods again and doesn’t say any of those things about the hole and how he has to fill it.

“You are my friend,” he says and realises it’s no less true. “I was worried.”

“I’m okay,” Jess says, her voice a choked whisper and scoots closer, lays her head on Finn’s shoulder.

Her grief indeed touches him, stings through the thin sleeve of his uniform, and Finn revels in it, in that pure emotion, because it’s for Poe, it’s part of Poe now, it’s all Finn has left of him. Inherited roles and friends and the endless sadness, all for him.

Jess’ head is a steady weight on his shoulder. Her body is warm next to his. It’s nice. Jess was right - it’s less lonely, less empty.

Jess doesn’t say another word. Finn doesn’t touch his lunch. They just sit quietly together until the end of Finn’s break.

When Finn sleeps, he sleeps on the sofa in the common room in East Wing. With most pilots gone, it’s quiet at nights.

He’s there, when the General finds him, stretched out on the old couch, trying in vain to drop off, BB-8 silent but not powered down next to his feet.

They finished its repairs a day after Poe’d gone quiet. Someone must have told it that its master is not returning. Finn doesn’t know if droids are capable of grief, but BB-8 is very quiet since then. Maybe it’s just because there’s no Poe to translate now and what’s the point of beeping at Finn who doesn’t understand its language. But BB-8 has been in Finn’s company without Poe before and the lack of Finn’s understanding didn’t stop it from being a little chatterbox then.

It also follows Finn everywhere, rolling two steps behind him like a lost puppy. Finn couldn’t send it away if he wanted to. He finds he doesn’t want to, anyway.

The General brings her usual feeling of calm with her, but it’s a bit different now, a bit detached, a bit artificial - it reminds Finn of how Starkiller felt, alive but not quite, life finding its way despite the circumstances. It rolls off her in waves, as if she especially tried to emit it and Finn knows she’s approaching long before she enters the room, but he doesn’t say anything, not even when she sits next to him, the worn mattress dipping at his hip.

She must be aware he’s not sleeping. Finn’s not stupid to think otherwise, but he wishes, oh, how he wishes, she’d let him get away with it, just this once. He wishes she wouldn’t speak to him, because he thinks once someone starts, once Finn starts answering, once he starts filling the silence, he won’t be able to stop, and then what?

But the fervent, silent wish doesn’t work on the General the way it seemed to work on the rest of the Resistance for this past week.

“I heard you’ve been camping out here for a while, Finn,” she says quietly. “Is there something wrong with your quarters?”

Finn breathes in fast, can’t help himself. Doesn’t answer - of course there’s something wrong with his quarters, and the General knows it. It’s missing Poe. But that sounds way too stupid to say out loud.

“It’s perfectly alright to request new quarters, Finn,” she continues. “No one would hold that against you. You wouldn’t be first to do so. It doesn’t make you weak.”

But that’s even worse. Finn doesn’t have enough care left to think about what would that make him look like, but however wrong a bunk without Poe is, getting a new one, a room that’s never known Poe, doesn’t contain his possessions, and memories, to pretend Poe’s never existed - that’s infinitely more wrong.

He shakes his head wildly, panicked, without realising he did it, until the General puts her hand on his hair, stilling the movement. It’s gentle, warm, that hand. Mother’s hand.

“It’s okay to grieve, Finn. It’s okay to talk about it.”

Finn shakes his head again, slowly this time.

“And it’s okay not to,” the General says and there’s a hint of smile somewhere in her tone. “But it’s not okay to pretend the grief isn’t there. It’s not okay to live on a military base and avoid your own bed, to replace proper rest with a nap on a sofa. Not when you’ll might be under an attack tomorrow, and responsible for someone’s life. I wish it wasn’t the truth, I wish I could give you all the time in the world to figure out how to process this, but I can’t. Where most people have years to find a way to deal with loss, you have to do it now.”

And Finn knows this, but still is glad the General tells him, doesn’t treat him as if he’s made of glass. This is the reality of Finn’s life. It’s grounding.

The world is at war; Finn is a soldier; his best friend is dead. These are the facts. He doesn’t like them, prefers not to think of them, but that doesn’t make them any less true. Finn needs someone else to tell him when he can’t.

“I know, General,” he says, the words emerging as a hoarse whisper he doesn’t quite recognise. Where has his voice gone?

The General is quiet for a while, her fingers drawing soothing circles in his hair.

“What do you want to do now, Finn?” she finally asks.

And Finn would be lying if he said he didn’t expect this question. For eight days, he has been expecting someone to voice it - maybe not to him, maybe just behind his back with Finn hearing it by accident. (and he’s sure plenty of people have done just that, they just were exceptionally careful about it.) - what will the stormtrooper do now?

It’s no secret, that at the beginning, Poe was the only reason why Finn stayed around. If it wasn’t for Poe, Finn would have left the first morning he could stand up on his own. Where, Finn doesn’t know - maybe he’d have gone through with his original plan and disappeared to the Outer Rim. Maybe he’d have followed Rey. Who knows. Finn didn’t think about it back then. Poe was by his side and Rey would eventually make her way back to the Resistance, so that was where Finn needed to be.

It’s no secret, that at the beginning, the command could ask anything of Finn, and Finn would look to Poe and if Poe as much as looked intrigued by the command’s idea, Finn would say yes. To anything, anything at all, if it helped Poe, if it impressed Poe, if Poe thought that was the right thing to do. And the command did ask for lots of things and some of them were very unpleasant. Some of them made Finn upset and scared and sick to his stomach and took his sleep away, but he endured all of it without a word of complaint.

It’s no secret, because Finn has never bothered to keep it a secret. From himself, from the rest of the Resistance, or from Poe. And it bothered Poe, Finn knows, because Poe is (was!) a good person and he wanted for Finn to make his own choices. But Finn wanted to do all of it. Maybe Poe was the deciding force behind majority of Finn’s decisions, but ultimately, they were all his. And it’s a little insulting, that now that this force is gone, people think Finn is incapable of making his own choices. It’s saddening, that most people who think he _can_ decide for himself, believe that his decision will be to leave.

And it’s disappointing, that even General Organa feels the need to ask.

Finn slowly sits up, the General moving to make room for him. He knows he could stay laying down if he wanted, the Resistance and General Organa specifically are not big on formalities. But this isn’t about Resistance or the First Order. This is about Finn, and Finn feels he should be sitting up for this conversation.

“What do you want me to do?”

Because this is what it boils down to. Finn can make decisions for himself. He is allowed and able to. But, whether it is his nature, or one of many after-effects of being raised by a fanatical military organisation, Finn doesn’t really like to. What he likes is to have someone to be loyal to. The only thing he truly feels he needs to choose on his own is where his loyalties will lay. He chose Rey. And he chose Poe.

And _this_ is a secret, but only because Finn could never figure out how to put it in words and say out loud, but somewhere along the way, he chose Jess and Snap and Karé and Chie and Thule and Amara and Lyn and Ana and Statura and Yuno, and dozens of others. And above everybody else, he chose General Leia Organa.

“Finn,” the General starts gently, and Finn can see the lecture on choices and freedom coming from a mile, so he hastens to explain himself.

“I want to stay here. I want to stay with the Resistance. I want to be useful to you and your cause. And I want to protect my friends.”

This, this is something he can say. This he wanted to say for a long time. Something warms inside him, around the cold light that was (is?) Poe, and then it hardens, like a cooling magma, cementing his decision.

This, this admission, this conviction is also a part of Poe, the legacy he has left in Finn. The lesson about love and friendship and family, but also about a cause, a purpose, a mission for better world. All the reasons why Finn’s life is worthy and this fight important.

“But I don’t know… I don’t know how. I don’t know what to do. I trust that you know better than I. I _trust_ you. You are my general. I’m your soldier. Whatever you want… Whatever you need me to do, I will do.”

Finn looks up at General Organa, who’s been quiet while he spoke and finds her looking back at him, her lips curved in a small smile, in direct contradiction with the tears rolling down her cheeks. Her eyes are full of pride.

“Finn,” she says and lays a hand on his shoulder. It’s so warm and soft, and unlike everyone else on the base these days, the contact isn’t prickly with grief. General Organa has been wearing loss for years and she doesn’t use it as a shield, but as a weapon, strong and unchanging. It fills Finn with strength.

“Go to sleep, Finn,” she tells him and Finn’s sure that isn’t what she wanted to say to him, but that’s alright. “Go to your quarters and sleep properly. That is my first order. And tomorrow morning, when you’re rested, we’ll see what I want from you.”

At that, Finn’s throat constricts, but he doesn’t disobey. He nods quietly and stands up. BB-8 at his feet whirs to life, ready to follow, and it gives Finn pause.

“What do you want me to do with BB-8?” he asks softly, the droid’s head turning to look at him at that question. Finn’s chest constricts on pair with his throat at the thought of loosing BB-8, and a part of his brain idly wonders if his body parts will just continue shrinking with every loss, until he disappears altogether.

The General throws him a wondering look.

“It’s yours, if you want it. If not, we’d have to wipe out BB-8’s memory - it seems like it chose its master and BB-8 doesn’t take orders from just anybody.”

At the mention of the memory wipe, BB-8 makes a high-pitched, panicked beep and rolls to hide behind Finn’s legs. Finn quickly crouches down and lays a hand on its rounded body, releases all his anxiety in one long breath.

“Of course I want it,” he says and BB-8 leans into his palm. “Don’t worry, buddy. I won’t let anyone to mess with your memory.”

The General smiles and Finn makes to leave, when she calls his name again.

“Finn!”

He turns and catches her wiping her cheeks.

“I miss him too. Don’t forget what I told you - it’s alright to grieve. It’s healthy. Don’t try to hold it all in.”

Finn nods again, and with a final “Good night!” rushes out of the room with BB-8 on his heels.

That was quite enough of that for one evening, Finn thinks walking to his (and Poe’s) quarters. Yes. Quite enough.

And then the door to the room opens and breath leaves him again, his eyes growing hot and itchy.

The room looks and smells and _feels_ exactly like it did eight days ago when Finn and Poe left in a hurry in the morning. Finn steps in, his breaths shallow, BB-8 following, not moving single step away from him. He quickly closes the door behind him, so the smell of the room doesn’t escape, even though Finn know it will eventually fade.

The smell that Finn unconsciously began to identify as “home”, the flowery detergent they use for sheets and the earthy, slightly damp air of the base mixed with Poe’s particular smell of herbal lotion and engine oil and sweat, and another smell that Finn assumes is himself, because he can only detect it when it mixes with another. And soon his smell will chase Poe’s away. Traces of Poe’s caf will be pushed out by his sunfruit juice. Poe’s aftershave will disappear in a whiff of Finn’s shampoo. The sweet tang of Poe’s orchid will be gone, when Finn inevitably kills the flower.

Eventually, Finn will have to rinse and tidy the mug still half-full of Poe’s unfinished morning caf sitting on the table next to a neat stack of reports Poe had finished the night before his last mission and that Finn oughts to bring to command as soon as possible. Eventually, Finn will have to go to the ‘fresher and pick up Poe’s ridiculously big towel off the floor and wash it and put it in a cupboard, because there’s no reason it should join Finn’s on the towel rack anymore. Eventually, he’ll change the sheets on Poe’s bed and even now, he’ll have to upset the nest of pillows and blankets on his bed, sort out which belong to him and which were Poe’s, and eventually he’ll have to wash them all and replace it with fresh bedding, cleaned of Poe’s sweat and hair and presence.

Eventually, Finn will have to shatter this delicate balance and all the signs of Poe that still live in this room will become a memory.

But not today.

Today, Finn won’t go to the ‘fresher, where a brush full of Poe’s hair hides and his bottles of sweet-smelling oils and soaps are precisely lined on the edge of a shower. He won’t have his customary cup of herbal tea before bed, so he doesn’t have to face a cupboard full of Poe’s ridiculous mugs and painted plates. He will step over the pile of Poe’s shoes and gloves and jacket at the foot of his bed, and he will lie down in Poe’s bed instead, so he doesn’t have to disturb the blankets on a bed where, only eight days ago, he woke up warm and curled up next to Poe.

BB-8 whirls to its charging station and silently powers down for the night. And Finn lies in not-his bed in a room that smells like Poe, has signs of Poe living there, but is empty.

Finn isn’t sure if it would be better or worse if someone has got rid of all Poe’s things .

Probably not.

It’s unlikely he’ll sleep ever again, here, or anywhere else.

His eyes sting, but are dry. He curls up on his side, around the cold light in his chest that is (used to be) Poe and decides to just wait quietly till the morning, a good soldier for the General.

Surprisingly, he falls asleep moments later in a middle of wondering what it is that General Organa wants from him.

 

* * *

 

Turns out, what General Organa wants, is to make him a lieutenant.

With the Resistance scheduled to move in a little over a week, the missions are put on hold and everyone concentrates on packing and planning the relocation. It’s a dangerous operation, more than any skirmish or recon on First Order in a way, because it involves a lot of people, many of them not capable of any real fight, to move very fast in not enough ships that, on top of it, have barely functional shields and no firepower. Not to mention the huge amount of tech and other equipment the Resistance managed to acquire and can’t leave behind because there’s no guarantee they’ll be able to get it again, and the Resistance members’ personal artifacts, which only few months ago Finn would think is a silly thing to care about and waste of effort moving, but now knows better. It’s a logistic and security nightmare and Finn is good at that. All of that. Logistics, protecting people and managing nightmares.

As long as they’re not his own anyway.

He doesn’t know if the General gave this to him because she knows how well he’d fit there, or because she thought it would be a good way to distract him. Knowing General Organa, it was probably a combination of both. Finn doesn’t ask, because he doesn’t care. It does distract him and he is good at it. It works.

That’s all Finn cares about.

Besides, it seems to be good for BB-8 as well, to have an objective to complete. Finn starts with inventure of Resistance’s storage, something Finn doesn’t think have been done once in the five years the Resistance was stationed on D’Qar and it’s a mess, everything tangled together and to sort it out is a tedious, exhausting job. It needs Finn’s full concentration, though, and he couldn’t ask for anything better than that. He pulls ridiculous hours and goes to sleep only when he’s almost falling off his feet and he has no time to think about Poe and how Poe is gone.

Finn sorts through the jumble of things - tech, some from the times of the Empire, spare droid parts, beds, linens and uniforms that belong to quartermaster’s office, old holos, medical supplies, kitchen equipment, disabled weapons, spare tables and chairs that will serve well the ever-growing Resistance, forgotten packs of rations, star maps. He finds a whole pack of new combat boots for Toydarians, something that is very difficult to come by these days and the small group of Toydarians stationed at the Torrent base smothers him in a group hug when he brings it to them. He finds a whole, functional, full-body X-Ray that only needs a good wipe and it’s as new and it almost makes Kalonia cry from happiness and the General from desperation, because it’s another big, bulky thing they can’t affored to leave behind but it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to find storage space on crowded ships. He finds an odd collection of strange things that no one knows how sneaked in there and many of them Finn doesn't recognise - a spiky wooden roll that turns out to be for massage, fluffy little balls with holes that Jess squeals over because they are self-heating slippers from Coruscant, a decorative pack of brown powder Finn at first thinks must be some kind of aromatic caf and turns out to be cocoa, something children apparently go wild over.

Finn doesn’t know. He hasn’t set foot in the nursery since Poe disappeared.

He writes lists, sorts through things, cleans, puts them into organised and well-labeled containers, trashes the broken pieces and packs the working ones.

However, the unfortunate side-effect of his terrifying efficiency is that he’s finished with the storages in three days, the rooms completely empty. Finn moves to logistics where he spends his days trying to figure out how to move over three thousand people on the ships full of equipment without anyone needing to double back and plans the routes best suited to avoid unwanted attention, bowed over star maps with Statura. He compliments him on his improved ability to calculate hyperspace jumps and that’s the only positive.

This work is less demanding and not enough physical for Finn to stop thinking. And thinking is bad. Finn could not afford to think.

He knows that it isn’t a good coping mechanism as well that he couldn’t go on like this forever. The thing is, as it turns out fourteen days after Poe went missing, Finn really doesn’t know how to grieve. It isn’t that surprising, he thinks, seeing as he never had to or did grieve before. When Rey was taken away, he concentrated on getting her back instead of sitting in the corner and crying uselessly. With Slip and Han, things were too hectic to stop and properly realise what happened and when he finally had time to process it, weeks passed and it seemed like a thing of a distant past. And, of course, Stormtroopers don’t grieve. He supposes he did grieve in a sort of absent, distant way, for the people of Hosnian System and the Stromtroopers left on Starkiller base, but this is different. This is personal.

He even has BB-8 download some reading materials, and the little droid (still unnaturally quiet) complies easily enough, but Finn thinks it’s judging him silently. Which is good. Finn will take any emotion from BB-8 at this point.

The holos are not helpful though. Mostly, they say that everyone grieves in their own way and that there’s no right way to do it, which isn’t remotely helpful to someone who doesn’t even know if what he does is grieving. The most helpful advice Finn finds is that the time heals everything. And Finn and his spine can testify that this is true, but he is out of time.

Normally in situation like this he would go to Poe, but… Well. So he does the next best thing.

“Hey, Lyn,” he says entering the nursery. “Hey, kids.”

Chorus of “Finn!” greets him back and he’s nearly tackled to the ground by a group of toddlers. However, he notices they’re much more subdued than they usually are. Any other time they would be hanging off of his arms and legs, chattering over each other, but today when he kneels to them, they only quietly cuddle up to him, even Tiina. Finn meets Lyn’s eyes across the room and hers are sad, understanding.

Kids always know.

Lyn takes him out when Ana comes to replace her. Finn can feel Ana’s sympathetic gaze on him and can’t look her in the eyes. It’s relief when the door to the nursery closes behind them.

Huh. Finn never thought there will come a day when he’ll feel relieved to be out of the room filled with bright colours and children’s chatter. Away from Ana’s sweet and joyful presence.

Lyn steers him to the garden. Finn’s stomach clenches painfully when the smell of fresh soil and greenery hits his nose, reminds him of Poe. He doesn’t say anything to Lyn, though. She means well. And she is grieving too, Finn knows. She goes to the place that comforts her and it might pain Finn to be in the garden without Poe (he can’t remember a single instance of being there without him before), at the same time, he wraps Lyn’s good intentions around himself, warm and safe, full of promise to share their grief and that’s a great thing. That’s why he went to Lyn, after all. Because with everyone else, it feels selfish to heap his own sadness on top of theirs, but Lyn likes to help people, likes to take their burdens for them for a little while. She needs to feel helpful and useful. She is just like Poe in that. With Lyn, Finn knows he’s helping her as much as she’s helping him.

They sit on a bench and Lyn is fidgeting, awkward and uncomfortable.

“So… How’re you holding up?” she finally asks.

Finn shakes his head, shrugs half-heartedly.

“I don’t know,” he says quietly after a moment. “I’m not, I think. I don’t know how to do this.”

His eyes are burning again, but there are still no tears, and that’s one of the problems, isn’t it?

“I didn’t cry. I can’t cry,” Finn tells her, because this is easy, this is one thing that he can actually name.

“Oh, darling,” Lyn says, her basic lilting just like Poe’s and wraps an arm around him. “That’s okay. That’s okay.”

Finn shakes his head again.

“I don’t think it is,” he whispers.

Lyn hugs him fully, presses a kiss to his temple and it burns like a drop of fire on Finn’s skin, rolls down his face and his neck, into his lap. It sits there, hot and heavy, but it only burns outside. Finn’s insides stay cold and empty.

He sinks into Lyn’s embrace and she tightens it.

“Oh, darling,” she repeats and then doesn’t say anything else, just lets Finn shake and hurt in her arms.

It’s simultaneously much more and much less helpful than he expected.

 

* * *

 

Sixteen days after Poe has disappeared, the Resistance is all ready to leave D’Qar. The Torrent base is strangely empty, stripped down of its furniture and decorations, almost as if no one ever lived there. It’s quiet, too, everyone in their rooms doing their personal packing.

There’s nothing left for Finn to do, so he reluctantly goes to his room too, closes the door and sits in the middle of the floor, BB-8 next to him, trying to figure out where, _how_ to begin. Jess has volunteered to do it for him, and Chie, Lyn, Mundo, even Thule suggested they’ll help him, but it doesn’t feel right, for someone to go through Poe’s things, to decide what to throw away and what to keep. It doesn’t feel right for Finn to do it either, but he’d rather do it himself. He doesn’t trust anyone else with Poe.

With a sigh he stops stalling and begins to tidy his corner. There’s surprising amount of Poe’s things entangled with his - or maybe not that surprising. Their lives were completely tied together after all.

He has very little things to pack on his own. The bedsheets, towels, most of dishes belong to the Resistance and he brings those to the cargo ships to be taken to MOON and there redistributed again among the Resistance fighters. Personal items are much more difficult.

First he takes Poe’s plant and plants it just outside the base, next to the landing strip and close to where Black One used to be parked. The flower would normally die quickly so close to the fumes but now that the Resistance is leaving D’Qar Finn is sure the plant will flourish outside in the sun and humid air, in the rich soil where he and Poe used to sit soaking up the sun.

Then he packs Poe’s collection of cups and plates, his brush and bottle of shampoo he barely opened and brings that to the cargo ships too, so it can be used again by someone else - hopefully it won’t get sorted to someone who will recognise it.

Poe’s clothes and especially uniforms must be signed in and categorised before the Resistance can sort it to someone else, so Finn tries to fold everything. Except there’s the soft white shirt Poe wore when he took him to celebrate his release from the med-bay and here’s the scarf he put around Finn’s neck when they went together on a mission on permanently frozen planet and god, Finn can’t breathe for a second when he sees the boots Poe wore when they first met, so long ago on Jakku, tucked back in the closet, and Finn didn’t know Poe still had those nor that he actually remembered this tiny detail. Poe’s soft hair is still hanging off of some clothes and it sticks to Finn’s palms, sweaty as they are - and why is this happening, why is he sweating and his breaths are shallow and quick and his vision swims a bit, but not with tears, never with tears, as if he was going on a mission or like when he was standing in front of the Mandalorian senate. But there’s no reason to feel scared or nervous. Finn almost runs to the bathroom, washes the few strands from his hands furiously. He can’t stand touching Poe, when Poe isn’t actually there. He can’t stand the smell so much stronger on Poe’s old clothes, his shampoo and the mixture of oil and lotion on his flight suits, and… No. Finn forgoes the folding, he gathers everything into a big bag and takes it to the quartermaster, messy as it is.

The trip to Jay’in’s office is calming. The base is coming alive again, people leaving their bunks with stacks of things to take to the cargo ships or going to the mess to dinner and the steady murmur of their voices chases Poe’s voice out of Finn’s head, the musty, metallic smell of the base in his nostrils instead of smell of Poe’s clothes.

“Couldn’t you bring this two days ago?” Jay’in grumbles in his usual manner. “How am I now supposed to find a place for it?”

“Major Ematt’s ship is carrying clothes,” Finn says absentmindedly, writing down the number of Poe’s flight suits in the form. “Few crates are still left open until tomorrow morning for anyone who finds things they want to store there. The crates for paperwork are still in General Organa’s office, they’ll be the last thing packed and leaving D’Qar. Put this into B-17, that’s where I put most Quartermaster’s paperwork.”

Jay’in lifts his eyes, only now realising it’s Finn who is standing in front of him and he nods and shuts up, uncharacteristically. It irks Finn. People only just stopped to treat him as if he was made of glass and now this careful approach as if he wasn’t fully human is back. The brief calm the walk here gave him is gone in an instant, but now Finn doesn’t feel short of breath and like his chest is going to crack any moment. He feels furious. And fury, this he at least he can interpret. He felt plenty furious before. It gives him strength and the rest of packing passes in a blur.

He rolls Poe’s star charts and posters neatly so they won’t take much space in the bin where he chucks them, having no use for posters of movies and musicians and racers he doesn’t know, and knowing that Statura has copies of all those star charts. He throws Poe’s pictures into boxes almost carelessly, not looking at them, then packs all the spare parts that found their way from hangar to their bunk, and follows that with all Poe’s little knick-knacks even more carelessly. BB-8 beeps in alarm when one of Poe’s starship models bounces off of its domed head.

“What?” Finn almost growls at him “I don’t know what you want! Poe’s not here to translate, don’t you understand?”

BB-8 beeps something else, something that sounds more steady and angry, somehow, and rolls out of the room, and that’s good, that’s perfect, Finn never wanted the droid to follow him around and make mysterious noises at him. He never wanted the droid, period. It’s Poe’s droid. And these are Poe’s things. He’s not supposed to touch them and pack them in boxes and go around the base with everyone’s eyes following him, knowing that he carries pieces of Poe to be taken away and given away and thrown away, never to be seen again just like their owner. Finn didn’t want this pity and quiet. Finn sinks on the floor in the middle of all the boxes and suddenly realises he’s almost finished packing. The room is bare, impersonal. Empty of both Finn and Poe, except Finn is still sitting there, and when he is done, he will go to MOON,

but Poe is gone. And this is it, Finn thinks. This is it, isn’t it. The room, left empty, will be covered with dust and eventually will crumble with the Torrent Base and no one will ever know Poe Dameron occupied it. All Poe’s things will be given to strangers or thrown out or sent back to Yavin IV to Poe’s father and Poe Dameron will cease to exist in everything but memory. And Finn knows first hand how fragile, how changeable the memories are.

The fury is gone. The fear and panic too. Or anything else, really. His chest doesn’t feel like it’s caving in and cracking anymore. Finn feels… Empty. Like his insides were scooped up and thrown into the vacuum of space. Only the little light that was always so warm and bright in him remains, but it’s sitting at the bottom of his stomach, cold and dense, as if he swallowed a piece of fruit that is too big. Like a stone thrown into the ocean, sunken to the bottom.

Finn gets up, slower, the manic energy from before drained out of him, and goes to dig through the boxes, thinking if there isn’t something he’d like to keep after all.

In the end, he keeps seven things.

First, he brings to the hangars. It’s the toolbox Poe had been given by Wedge Antilles when he graduated the Academy. He still doesn’t really understand these things, but if Poe is to be believed, the box is a state of art, custom made and specifically for T-70s, but most of it can be used on other starfighters too. And Poe probably is to be believed, judging by Amara’s reaction. The girl _whoops_ and does a little jump and honest to god hugs the box to her chest. Upon learning where it comes from, she hugs it harder and Finn is glad it’s only Amara in the hangar, who hugs the box but not Finn, because he doesn’t think he could stand sympathy now.

“It will be loved and taken care of here,” Amara assures him, her eyes glistening with tears.

Second thing is a set of oils and instruments used to fix and tweak BB-8, so the droid stays in perfect condition. He gathers those and goes for a hunt through the base, until he finds BB-8 in the data room, rolled in the corner.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, sitting down next to it. The droid doesn’t answer, but it’s all the same to Finn. He wouldn’t understand it anyway.

“I found this in Poe’s things,” Finn continues awkwardly. He puts the small box in front of BB-8 and opens it, so the droid can peer into it. It does, and it encourages Finn. “I was thinking, I’ll keep that. What do you think? I don’t know much about astromechs, but these are what Poe used to clean you up, right? So you probably like these, right?”

Finn hesitates. BB-8 is silent. Then it looks at Finn and gives a slow, enquiring beep.

“I’ll learn your language, I promise. And how to take care of you and stuff. If you have me. I’ll probably fumble a lot along the way, and I will run out of patience and I will make mistakes, but I’ll get it right eventually. If you help me. If you have me.”

BB-8 makes another sound Finn doesn’t have a chance to interpret, so he just keeps talking.

“Because I want to. I want to have you. And I want to take care of you. I would never let them erase your memory or anything like that. But it’s your decision too, you know. I don’t want you to stay with me just because I’m the better of two bad options. You could go to Jess, or Snap…”

Finn trails off and suddenly realises that those are actually options, and very real ones at that. And how much he doesn’t want it. How much he wants - needs - BB-8 to stick with him. How much he can’t loose anything else. How much he can’t stand another change.

“So… Yeah. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. And… Stuff.”

BB-8 releases a string of beeps that sound kind of angry and Finn thinks the droid is swearing at him, but BB-8 ends its beeping rant nudging Finn’s side and sneaking under his arm in a move that can’t be called anything but cuddling.

Finn pats the droid and thinks he is forgiven.

When he stands up to go finish his work, BB-8 follows him back without a pause.

Third item is a book of binary for beginners - an actual book made from paper, not a holo. It was given to Poe by his mother when he was a boy and it’s full of little Poe’s notes and drawings. It might be more suited to be sent to Poe’s father, but Finn intends on making good on his promise and this will come useful.

Fourth thing is a picture of the Black Squadron, that Finn knows it’s the only copy. He brings that to L’ulo and L’ulo, good and understanding as he is, calmly thanks Finn, only briefly laying his big hand on Finn’s shoulder and then retreating, probably to mourn the loss of his almost-nephew in private.

The last three things, Finn keeps for himself.

An old shirt, worn almost threadbare but incredibly soft, that Poe used to wear to bed. It still smells just like him. Finn carefully rolls it into a small ball and puts into a plastic bag before packing it with his things. Hopefully, if he’s very careful, it will keep Poe’s smell for a long time. And Finn doesn’t even care how weird that is.

Poe’s flying helmet. Technically, he should give that to the quartermaster too, but it would have to be repainted and Finn can’t bear the thought of someone else wearing Poe’s helmet. Black One, BB-8 and the custom painted helmet were three things the man held most important in the universe and Finn gets to keep two of them. It might be selfish, possibly undeserved, but Finn can’t part with it. He’ll keep clinging to Poe for as long as he can, by any means possible and maybe, one day, it will be enough to fill the hole in his being.

The last thing is a picture. It technically belonged to Poe, but it had a place of honour on their shared shelf. It´s a holo taken in the pilots rec room about a week after Finn joined ground troops, when he was still happy and certain with his place there. Jess printed it on a glossy paper, because Poe especially liked it and everyone knows that Poe prefered his pictures on paper rather than in holo-frames. Finn, personally, couldn’t really see the appeal of the picture. It’s just him and Poe in the centre of a group of pilots and mechanics, plus Thule, who Finn and Amara literally dragged from the med-bay. He’s the only one not laughing at the picture, pulling an annoyed face instead, but his eyes are crinkled in that particular way they do when the Twi'lek is enjoying himself. The rest of the group are smiling or laughing widely, unattractively, most of them not looking into a camera. The lighting is awful and the background consists of drunken pilots and moldy stone walls of the Torrent base. Jess’ eyes are closed and Chie Tanga is craning her neck in effort to be seen from behind the group. Everyone has wild hair and cheeks red from the Corellian Ale. It’s not a pretty picture and no one, including Poe and Finn, looks their best on it. And yet Poe loved it. Now, for the first time, Finn can see the appeal.

They’re happy.

Everyone on the picture is so obviously happy and comfortable, carefree in the way one wouldn’t expect from a group of soldiers in a middle of war. It was a good evening, Finn remembers. Poe had his arm around Finn’s shoulders the whole time. On the picture, his entire body is angled toward Finn and although he’s not looking straight at him, when Finn looks properly, the line of Poe’s sight goes to Finn. He’s laughing at something Finn said. His mouth is open in the middle of a witty retort. It’s a perfectly imperfect moment forever frozen on a paper and Finn puts the frame with it into his luggage and rubs his burning eyes.

Then he packs the rest of the spare parts and tools and brings them to the hangar, closes the crates for Poe’s father and brings them to the command centre to be shipped to Yavin IV at some point in the next few days, and goes to sleep under a solitary blanket in a bare room.

When he leaves the next day, he doesn’t look back at the space he spent the past nine months in.

Poe would have, he was sentimental like that, but for Finn the empty room doesn’t mean much now.

 

* * *

 

Seventeen days after Poe has gone, Finn leaves the Torrent Base and never again sets foot on D’Qar for as long as he lives.

He is assigned to the first transport, which is the smallest. It’s bringing the most important things to start the base and has smallest crew mostly composed of technicians and mechanics. The rest of the Resistance will follow over the next two weeks.

Finn goes with them because aside from Snap he is most familiar with the layout of the Aleidu now, and Snap is leading one of the X-Wing convoys that will accompany one of the latest transports. Jess is assigned as a guard to them, together with Oddy. Their reactions can’t be more different. For Oddy Muva it’s his first mission and he is ecstatic. Finn is happy to see that, in the small part of his heart that is still capable of feeling something else than crushing grief and absence of Poe. He thought he’ll never see the young Abednedo smiling again. The boy used to follow Poe around like a lost tooka and couldn’t wait to become a proper pilot.

Jess, on the other side, grumbles about being put on a babysitting duty. She’d rather go with one of the big transport where chance of danger is bigger. Finn’s group is tiny and doesn’t promise much excitement.

That, Finn thinks, is - was - the difference between Poe and any other plot. They are all adrenaline junkies who laugh in the face of danger, but Poe never let that affect the mission.There was no such things as a small mission for him - he took them all with the same seriousness. If it was destroying the Starkiller or scouting a possible First Order base, Poe treated it as if that very mission would change the outcome of the war.

It all goes well at the beginning.

Finn was one of the people that planned the route from D’Qar to Aleidu and as the jump in and out of hyperspace, it greatly relieves his anxiety, knowing exactly where they’re heading next. The entire trip shouldn’t take more than a day.

It isn’t until they leave their third hyperspace jump point - third out of six and everyone is growing more and more comfortable as their journey tips into the second half - that Finn realises something is wrong.

It's very simple, and unbelievably quick, when Finn recalls it later. One moment he thinks of a perfectly empty pocket of space just like the one they'd made their jump at previously and in the next a cold, heavy dread drops into his stomach like lead. Instead of blank darkness and stars blinking in the distance, Finn's mind is flooded with an image of a First Order Stardestroyer, enormous, glorious and utterly horrifying. For a second Finn can smell the plastic, recycled air that filled his childhood, his ears full of the white static, thick like cotton. Then Finn is moving to the control console. 

It's late though, he knows. The stars around them are already slowing down and they're leaving the hyperspace. What awaits them out of it Finn shouldn't know,  _can't_ know and yet he does, with absolute certainty. Death and destruction. And after they're gone, the next transport, and the one after it, will met the same end. One by one the Resistance will smoothly fly into the First Order's trap until none of it is left.

 _Warning signal,_ Finn thinks first. They need to alert the Resistance before they're shot to pieces.

 _Safe place,_ another voice whispers in his ear.  _Find a safe space. Run. Hide. There are still battles for you._

And instead of pressing the button to send an emergency alert to the Torrent base, Finn finds himself opening the communication between their convoy's ships.

"Finn, what are you dong?" Kaydel hisses at him, but Finn pays her no heed. There's no time.

"To all the ships," Finn says, his voice strangely, unnaturally calm. "Prepare to jump back into the hyperspace immediately."

"Finn, what-..." Jess doesn't finish, because in that moment they exit the hyperspace and come face to face with a Stardestroyer, just as enormous and deadly as it was in Finn's mind, just more... _R_ _eal._

"I'm sending the new coordinates now," Finn says, the numbers half typed already. They slip from the tips of his fingers automatically, as if they were always there, waiting for their moment. They promise him an empty space, unknown and safe in its darkness. 

"Got it!" Jess says and Finn realises how much does Jess trust him in that moment. Then he punches the hyperspace button.

They jump back into the tight, safe embrace of hyperspace before the First Order even registers they were there.

"What in the Galaxy was that?" Kaydel yells.

"They were waiting for us," Bastian says, stating the obvious in an empty, shocked voice.

"And they're waiting at the next jump point too," Finn says.

"How do you know that?" Bastian frowns.

"I just do," Finn shrugs, unable to explain himself. 

"Not gonna argue with a guy who just saved our butts," Jess says, effectively ending the conversation. "So where are we heading, Finn, buddy?"

Finn ignores the tight pinch in his chest he feels at the word "buddy" in a wrong voice and forces himself to concentrate at the situation at hand.

"No idea," he admits. "But I know it's safe."

"You don't  _know_?" Bastian says, hysteria creeping into his voice.

Luckily, before poor Bastian has time to work himself into a proper panic, they are spat out of the hyperspace and into an empty corner of the universe, that Finn still can't place, but it's clear there's no immediate danger.

It takes them a while to figure out where they ended and it turns out Finn didn't throw them that much off-course. It takes them much longer to calculate new route to Aleidu, because Finn is adamant they can't use the original jump points. Everyone is distraught, but no one says a word against Finn's and he is again struck by the implicit trust these people seem to place in him.

When they're finally back on their - much longer - way, Jess turns on her comm.

"How did you know, Finn?" she asks. It's not accusatory at all, just curious, and Finn can't blame her for it.

"I... I just did," Finn repeats. "I can't explain it. A gut feeling, I guess?"

"But you knew those new coordinates, just off the top of your head," Jess says and Finn can almost hear the frown in her voice, scrunched nose and wrinkled forehead and all. "And you say they're waiting for us in the other jump points too. Not that I don't trust your word. 'Cause I absolutely do. I just can't puzzle it out."

"Yeah," Oddy inserts himself into the conversation. "We pilots know something about gut feeling and there ain't gut feeling like this in the world."

"Well..." Kaydel starts, but Bastian immediately talks over her.

"That's not as important as how the hell did  _they_ know we're coming? You know what that means. We've got a snitch."

The conversation moves from Finn, but Kaydel doesn't join it and Finn can feel her eyes on him the whole journey. And he's pretty sure Jess isn't going to drop this that easily either.

What bothers him more is that that cold feeling of dread that started the whole thing, Finn is familiar with. He felt just the same the morning when he last saw Poe, mounting his X-Wing fighter. And back then, he did nothing about it. How is it Finn can save the entire Resistance, but not his friend?

The rest of their journey passes without any surprises and Finn spends it curled into himself in the corner, trying very hard not to blame himself.

For a lot of things. 

 

* * *

 

Finn decides he quite likes being one of the first people on the new base.

He is quite surprised when that little thought makes home in his brain and he tells so to BB-8.

“I didn’t think I will feel anything ever again.”

They’re sitting on the edge of what will become a landing strip as soon as there’s more than their five transports and two fighters on Aleidu. It must have been a landing strip before when monastery was still alive with its creepy monks, a long stretch of hard rock leading into the cavernous space at the opening of the mountain. The mountain itself leans over it as if it was going to fall any moment, covering the strip from the air quite well, but the front is open, leading to the spacious open valley, making the approach maybe not the easiest, but certainly not difficult. Coincidentally, it makes for the most wonderful spot to sit on, even with the cold winds howling freely about.

When Finn sits there, the entire valley with it’s deep blue river and emerald forest lays right under him, with the grassy plains steeply reaching into the opposite mountain, soon giving way to rock that are sometimes gray and sometimes blue, and sometimes violet or deep purple or indigo depending on the time of the day and weather. When the sky is blue like today, Finn can see all the way to the peaks of the mountains around them, sparkling white with snow and in the distance, a waterfall pours down the rocky cliff, splattering on the ground in a white foamy mess.

“Okay, that’s not true,” Finn corrects himself when BB-8 beeps at him and even without speaking basic Finn knows this tone means BB-8 is protesting something. “I thought all I will feel, forever, is sadness and pain and anger. But I like this place. I like setting up the new base. I have… Fun.”

And he does. He tries not to dwell on how much fun he would have been having if Poe was here too, or if Finn was waiting for him to arrive in one of the later transports, buzzing with impatience to show his friend this new, amazing place, for the first time ever showing Poe something Poe doesn’t know and Finn does. He tries not to dwell on how this fun is just a shadow of what he used to feel, even if it’s better than nothing, even if he didn’t expect to get even this much back. He tries not to dwell on how guilty it makes him feel sometimes, when he catches himself laughing, because Poe Dameron is gone and all the joy should have seeped out of the world with him, but it stubbornly clings to the place and it feels like Finn’s stomping all over Poe who deserves more than few weeks of mourning.

They all try not to dwell on the fact that the First Order corrupted their transport route. They set up a radio station immediately after arriving to Aleidu and used a new frequency and never before used emergency code to send a warning to the Resistance and they haven’t got a word back, which is good, that’s how the protocols work, but they’re still worried the message wasn’t received and their friends are heading for a trap.

But there’s nothing they can do for now, so they start setting up the base as they’re supposed to do. They plan the layouts, where sleeping quarters for each section will be and they all take a gleeful pleasure in claiming the best rooms before others arrive. On Torrent base, the different units tended to stick together, but it wasn’t forbidden nor uncommon for people to mix up like Finn did, staying with Poe in pilots quarters even if he wasn’t a pilot himself. It’ll be the same here, and Finn chooses room in the pilots quarters still.

“Most of my friends are from pilots, I’m used to everyone being around,” he reasons to BB-8 but he doesn’t think he’s fooling the droid, even if BB-8 makes an agreeable beep.

There’s a small voice at the back of his head telling him Poe might still come back, and if he does, he can’t move in with Finn again if Finn isn’t with pilots, because the high command has to stay with their people.

Every night after a day of hard work they build a giant bonfire in the cave that will soon become a hangar but is still empty for now and sit around it until late. People joke and sing and Finn doesn’t join, but he sits there until the fire is just glowing embers in the darkness and feels at home.

When a second batch of the Resistance finally arrives on Aleidu over a week later (and whole five days after they’ve been scheduled to), Finn’s group of the Original Settlers, as Jess has taken to calling them, welcomes them with an enormous cheer.

“We’ve been working overtime trying to find new, safe route,” Snap tells Finn after he envelops him and Jess in a tight group hug. “Thank stars you guys were alright and managed to let us know. We sent some scouts to the original hyperspace jump point and the First Order was waiting for us like we were rabbits heading into a trap. They would have utterly destroyed us if it wasn’t for your warning. How did you escape?”

“Well, isn’t that the most peculiar story?” Jess drawls and gives Finn a long meaningful look. “Let’s leave story time after dinner, it’s quite a long one too. Come on big guy, I’ll give you a tour of the base. It’s awesome!”

“Jess, I’ve been here before!” Snap tries to protest, but Jess drags him away.

Kalonia is also part of the second group and she walks around the spacious rooms that were selected and set up as a med-bay.

“This is wonderful,” she turns to Finn with a smile. “It’s all so light and airy! And everything is so tidy and the beds are exactly where I’d have put them… You did this, Finn, didn’t you?”

Finn nods, bashful, and lets Kalonia hug him.

“Thank you, starling,” she strokes his shoulder. “It’s amazing. You did so well.”

And deep inside Finn’s core that felt frozen since Poe has left, a tiny, flickering flame of pride burns brightly.

So Finn sits at the edge of what will become a landing strip, BB-8 by his side and marvels at that bit of warmth that is making home inside of his chest again.

"Should I feel guilty about it?" he asks and BB-8 beeps something that sounds half-angry and half-chastising. 

"You're right," Finn sighs, looking at the waterfall and the lush grass and the sky so blue Finn thinks someone must have painted it so. "Things don't stop being pretty or good just because Poe isn't here. I guess I kinda thought they will, but..."

But it turns out Poe Dameron wasn't whole world. He might have seemed like such to Finn, once, but even then Finn knew it wasn't true and now he has to find his footing in a world that seems so much more cruel, but still beautiful in so many ways.

He just wishes Poe didn't first crash Finn's world, didn't let it die in flames and explosion somewhere on a cold planet occupied by the First Order half a Galaxy away, trying to do the right thing because he never failed before. Finn wants to be angry at him, but in the end he's always only angry at himself. For missing Poe too much and not missing him enough, for letting himself to get so caught up in a single person and then letting them leave without a farewell. For being warm inside one minute and then laying in his big, empty bed and feeling so cold inside he thinks he will surely die.

There are dark dots on the blue sky now, like specks of dust, and Finn sighs again, taps BB-8 and stands up, dusting off his trousers. Almost three weeks after Finn's group landed on Aleidu, the last transport is arriving and Finn runs inside to announce that the Resistance soon will be complete.

That night they have a bonfire again, but there's more food - and definitely more alcohol. It's a party, a christening of the new base as Jess calls it.

Snap leads Finn away from the fire which is fine. Finn isn't that much in a mood for a party anyway. General Organa stands in the shadows waiting for them. For a moment Finn is terrified, but the General gives him a smile and the fear drains from him and leaves him only confused.

"Snap tells me I should hear about your adventure on a way here," she says and Finn's confusion only grows.

"I wrote a report?" he says, and he truly did and yet it comes out as a question.

"You didn't write everything you told me in the report," Snap shrugs. "You're not in trouble - it's quite a story and it doesn't belong on the official papers, but the General should hear it."

Finn is still confused, but listens and tells the General the same version of the story he and Jess told Snap that night when Snap arrived on Aleidu - about the strange feeling in his ribcage, about the jump out of hyperspace and Finn's desperate effort to make another jump immediately, the absolute certainty when he typed numbers into the navigation, numbers that came to his mind in a whisper of a voice Finn doesn't recognise but knows still. About the moment he glimpsed the First Order ships waiting for them and another when stars ran in front of his eyes and they were in hyperspace and Finn knew they just about avoided a disaster but they were safe. 

When he's finished, the General is looking at him with wide eyes and head cocked just a little bit and a slow smile spreads on her lips.

"Finn," she says slowly. "Close your eyes and tell me what you feel."

Finn is growing more and more confused by the minute, but, never one to not listen to his CO's orders, closes his eyes and lets his senses run free.

They're like invisible, endless fingers spreading from his chest and grabbing at smells and sounds and people and sensations.

"It's cold," he says at first, the strongest feeling he has, he's had since Poe died.

"Cold?" the General inquiries.

"I mean, it's chilly, like the air is cold, but it's also... Cold inside me? I don't know how to explain it. It feels like the ice on Starkiller. I know its strange, but it feels exactly like the ice on Starkiller, but inside of my skin?" Finn desperately tries to explain himself and when the General doesn't have any more questions, he continues. "Outside, there's warmth. Like fire. But I don't mean the  _fire_! It's like everyone has fire inside them. Where I have the ice from Starkiller, most people have a flame. Some people have it really small. Some people have it big. But when everyone is together like this, it's really... Warm."

Finn pauses, stretches his invisible fingers. He never did this - not like now. Finn could always feel these strange things, but he never tried to reach out, never tried to concentrate on what he feels. It's like when Kalonia let him stand up straight for the first time after his injury; like stretching a muscle after it's been asleep for ages. It's not easy, nor it is exactly pleasant, but it's freeing.

"There's more life beyond the base. Smaller. Less complicated. Animals?" he guesses. "It's so calm. It smells like fresh soil and water and something sweet, but not like cake, too sweet, unpleasant, but natural. There's Aleidu. It's big. It's burning with a cold, strong fire. And it pulses. Like a heartbeat? It's... Happy," Finn realises. "It's welcoming."

He breathes deep.

"And then there's the Galaxy. It's enormous. Cold, but not freezing, just cold like when someone presses a cold hand to sleep warmed skin and goosebumps rise on your arms but it's smooth and soft and just a little bit too cool. It's empty. And there are stars. They all pulse - like Aleidu. It's not one rhythm but they all complement each other. Like a song. There's light. And there's darkness."

Those both whisper to Finn, pull at him from opposite sides and Finn quickly comes back before they stretch him too thin. He's surprised to realise the General put his hand on his shoulder. When did that happen? But it's good - it gives him something to concentrate and he comes back to the feeling he knows well, the one Leia Organa carries with her.

"There's a best with soft paws and softer hair," he says. "With a mighty roar and grief at the tips of its ears and fury in the strokes of its tail."

Finn breathes out and opens his eyes. The General is looking at him with eyes that seem to sparkle in the darkness.

"What is this?" Finn asks, a bit of the fear from earlier tiptoeing back into his chest. "This isn't normal, right?"

"Not quite," the General says and pats his shoulder, but leaves her hand on it. She takes a deep breath as if getting ready to give a speech. "This Finn, is the Force."

"The Force?"

"And it's strong in you," she smiles and all the fear drains from Finn. Only a happy, curious anticipation remains.

"If you'd like, I would show you the ways of the Force. Or at least the ways I know - I'm by no means my brother but I know a thing or two that could help you channel and utilize your abilities. But don't take this as an order, Finn - it's an offer."

And Finn only nods, because he can't speak through the bubble of happiness that grows in his throat. This is all he wanted to since he was nine years old and met the Jedi on Starkiller. To know his place in the universe, and to feel the Force - since that first moment he heard about it, it felt like a friend that was denied him and now he can finally grasp it in his hands and. And he's so happy. 

"Woohoo!" Snap behind him whoops and Finn jumps - he completely forgot about Snap. "Finn, you're gonna be a Jedi!"

"Oh, well..." Finn fumbles. Learning about the Force and how to feel it is one thing, but a Jedi?

"Or something," Snap abates.

"Or something," the General smiles and then she gives Finn's shoulder a last pat and turns back to the fire. "Come, boys. It's time for a speech. Finn, I will see you in my office tomorrow after lunch."

It is indeed time for speech. The moment General Organa steps into the circle of people and firelight, all the sights turn on her.

"Speech! Speech!" someone at the back starts and soon the entire Resistance is chanting:

"Speech! Speech!"

"Alright, alright," the General laughs as she steps in front of them. "There isn't much I can tell you. You all know what the situation is - and you don't want to hear my platitudes. The First Order is strong, perhaps stronger than us. We had our hardships. We had our loses."

Everyone seems to deflate just a little bit and the bubble of happiness in Finn pops loudly. For a moment, he thought he'll run to Poe and tell him he'll be a Jedi - or something - for a moment he was simply happy and whole. For a moment he forgot.

But the truth is, Poe is gone, lots of people are gone, and, Force or not, the First Order grows stronger.

"Every day, the First Order grows stronger," the General echoes his thoughts. "But so are we. Despite everything - we are here. The journey here - the literal journey to Aleidu - wasn't easy. But we are here. We will be challenged. But we trust in the Force. We trust in our faith. We trust in one another and ourselves. We will persevere. And in time, we will win."

There's a thunderous applause. Finn claps slower, quieter, but all the same. 

He might hurt right now - he might hurt for a long time. But if Poe taught him anything, it's that there's always hope.

"I name this base Fulcrum," the General announces when the cheering and clapping dies down.  
  
“Fulcrum?” someone (Finn thinks it might be Thule) asks. “What does that mean?”

“It’s a name,” the General smiles. “I’m naming this base after a dear friend. It comes from a time when the Rebellion was nothing more than a seed and Fulcrum was the hope needed to nurture it. It’s a reminder of what can grow from the tiniest speck of faith and will, if only one person is brave enough.”

General Organa’s eyes land on Finn just then, briefly, and he doesn’t think it’s an accident.

That evening he unpacks the rest of his things and at the bottom of the small box with his personal belongings he finds the old picture of Torrent Company Doctor Kalonia gave him for his first birthday. He tapes it on the wall above all his other pictures that have smiling faces of his friends in it. The clones also smile down at Finn and Finn thinks they too had hope for their war to end, even if it was the only thing they ever knew.

Perhaps he could carry that hope in him too.

 

* * *

 

It’s been two weeks since the Resistance fully moved to Aleidu (and forty-six days since Poe has disappeared) and everyone seems to be settling well into the Fulcrum base, when Rey finally, finally makes contact.

Finn is in the hangar handing Amara tools as she works on a finicky fighter and translates words that BB-8 patiently beeps out, one by one, so Finn can build up his vocabulary. His communication with the droid had improved rapidly over the past two weeks, but BB-8 is getting bored with the simple, bare sentences that only communicate the absolutely necessary minimum for the two of them to be able to exist together, and would like to move to the actual conversation. Finn doesn’t mind. BB-8 has been his constant and most of the time only companion and Finn’s unability to talk to it is annoying him too. There’s only so much silence one can bear before going insane.

Kaydel runs to him faster than Finn has ever seen her moving, her usually meticulous hair flying everywhere and Finn is worried for a second, awaiting news of a disaster because Kaydel _never_ loses her calm like this, but then he notices the wide grin on her face.

“Finn!” she yells before coming to a stop in front of him, breathing heavily. “Finn, Finn, Rey called!”

Finn doesn’t bother to hear the rest of whatever Kaydel has to say. He drops the screwdriver he’s been holding and sprints to the command center. Kaydel is at his back for a while, but he leaves her behind soon, running as fast as he can. Even BB-8, who started rolling even before Finn moved, is left behind. Finn curses the distance of the command centre from the hangars the whole time, worried that the connection won’t last long enough for him to get there, or that General Organa will order Rey to cut the communication short because it’s dangerous.

He needn’t worry though. When he blasts through the door, the comm is still up, on the big holo in the middle of the room that’s normally used for maps and diagrams when planning a strategy, with most of the command standing in front of it, their back to Finn. The connection seems to be stable, even if a little staticky, which is normal for calls from such distant planets, and the figures are blue, their faces little distorted, but it’s undeniably Rey standing behind a man in cloak and with a scruffy beard who must be Luke Skywalker, currently talking to the General. Chewbacca is standing on the other side, his stature too tall to fit into the frame and it’s a little bit funny to hear his wookie noises coming from somewhere up above Luke’s shoulder, when he inserts a comment or two in Luke’s speech. Finn doesn’t even listen to what Luke Skywalker is saying, staring at Rey’s glowing face, her eyes sharp and concentrated as she follows the conversation. She looks healthy, happy. Finn realises he’s smiling, his face stretching into it automatically, because that really is the only response a person can have to Rey and Finn dares anyone to content him on that. He also realises his cheeks hurt a bit with the intensity of that smile - or maybe, with how unfamiliar it became in the past five weeks, and his smile dims at that.

<Friend-Rey!> BB-8 thrills excitedly, finally catching up and arriving at Finn’s feet. Then it beeps a string of words Finn doesn’t understand, although he catches “happy” and the designation BB-8 has for him, and rolls further into the room.

That catches the attention of everyone else and Finn finds himself the centre of attention of the command, assessing gaze of Luke Skywalker and, most importantly, Rey.

“Finn!” she squeels and actually jumps a little. BB-8 beeps indignantly at being ignored and Rey smiles her dimpled smile and turns her eyes down briefly.

“BB-8!” she greets the droid and quickly looks back at Finn, her eyes roaming his body, searching, cataloging.

“Hey, Rey,” Finn feels himself smile again. “Nice of you to call. It only took you nine months!”

“On the other hand, you, lieutenant, made it here in a record time!” Statura laughs at him, clapping his shoulder on his way out of the room.

The rest of the command also trickles out of the room, giving Finn warm smiles. General Organa is the last to stay.

“We’re done with everything urgent for now. Luke, don’t forget the check-in times. Rey, don’t let him pretend he forgot,” she frowns at his brother and Rey giggles. Luke rolls his eyes, but eyes are warm when he looks at his sister.

“Goodbye, Leia,” he says and turns away, leaving with Chewbacca at his heels.

“Goodbye,” the General says and turns to leave too. “Try not to stay too long, I want to have a meeting here soon. Also, the line should be safe enough, but you know what you shouldn’t talk too much about. Have fun,” she tells Finn, gently touching his arm as she leaves the room and Finn really should have known better. The General would never deliberately rob him of a chat with Rey.

He turns back to the holotable, where BB-8 chatters at Rey. She seems to be listening to him, while her eyes stray to Finn every once a while as if she was checking he was actually, truly there. Finn can understand the feeling. It’s mutual.

“Rey,” repeats when BB-8 pauses briefly, stepping closer.

“Finn,” she says almost at the same moment and they laugh, Rey’s laughter a happy, ringing noise that fills the room. Finn misses her fiercely, suddenly even more, although this is the closest he’s been to her in months.

“You’re standing!” she says happily.

“Are you surprised?” Finn quirks a brow, something he picked up from Statura.

“I’m glad,” Rey counters. “And they called you lieutenant?”

Finn shrugs nonchalantly, as if that wasn’t a big deal.

“I found a place here,” he says, quieter than he planned. Rey’s smile only widens, though.

“So did I!” she says, takes a deep breath and launches into telling him everything that happened to her in the past nine months. Well, not everything, Finn is sure she’s leaving out a lot, but the truly monumental moments she shares in great detail. She tells him about the planet Ach-To with its endless oceans and abandoned temples of the first Jedi that, according to Rey, _reek_ of the Force, and Finn wishes a bit more he could be there with her, that he could have a look at these things himself, _feel_ them. She tells him about R2D2 being adorable (it makes BB-8 do that beeping-thrilling sound Finn has come to realise is a laugh) and Chewbacca teaching her about engineering, and about Luke and about Luke and about Luke. About how he wasn’t too happy with her at the beginning, but she trained him to be pretty much the perfect teacher. About how he shows her how to use the Force and how to fight with a lightsaber, but also how to make tea and how to spice soup so it doesn’t only fill her stomach but also tastes nice. How to swim and the names of all the plants on the island they inhabit, and all the planets on the maps stored in the Falcon. How they sit by the fire every night and Luke tells her stories, sometimes about the old Rebellion and sometimes about the times long, long past, and occasionally about Han Solo (not when Chewie is around though), but never, never about his old Jedi school and the children Kylo Ren murdered. From that she launches into her training and she complains about how hard it is, but Finn can see she loves it.

Rey’s chatter fills the silence that surrounds Finn like an impenetrable glass ball recently, and her happiness fills him up with a feeling not unlike a Corellian ale, but when she eventually runs out of breath, it all rushes back.

“And how have you been?” she asks and it’s with a genuine, wholehearted interest.

And the thing is. The thing is, Finn has so much he wants to tell Rey. Wanted to tell Rey. There was that time after he got out of the medbay, but before he officially became member of the Resistance, that felt like a long overdue vacation and every day was a wonder, and Finn started to write down everything he needed to tell Rey when she finally contacted them or came back. Eventually it became clear that Rey wasn’t going to contact them for a longer while and he became too busy and the list too long and he stopped, but there’s still plenty of things on it that are still interesting enough to mention. He could run to his quarters to get it, or ask BB-8 to go, or maybe the little droid even has it on its datadisks somewhere, as it took to saving every trace Finn made electronically about a week after he got out of the medbay, same as it did for Poe.

But. But at least two thirds of those things started with Poe. Poe showed me. Poe took me. Poe gave me. Poe told me. And about half of the things he didn’t write were adventures he went on with Poe. The friends he could tell Rey about were Poe’s friends first - and those who Finn made himself ended up being Poe’s friends too, through Finn. The things Finn acquired were mostly given to him by Poe.

Poe. There is - was - so much Poe in his life. And Finn never even realised, but the longer he waited for Rey’s call, the more he began envisioning Poe by his side when he finally got it. Poe being so excited to finally meet Rey and Rey being delighted by Finn’s best friend. He imagined telling her the stories and having Poe correct him when he became too cocky and inserting his silly jokes in between, and then Fin would jab him in the ribs and Rey would laugh at them. They would get along famously, all three of them.

And now none of that will happen.

Even talking about the Force feels wrong, because if he tells Rey, everyone, _everyone_ in the world dear to him will know, except Poe.

Finn wishes Rey just kept talking and he could wrap himself in her words and excitement and affection and forget about everything for a little longer. But he can’t, so he gathers himself and opens his mouth, the words rising on his tongue about Fulcrum base and BB-8 and how he helps with repairing the X-Wings, things he thinks will interest Rey. But nothing comes out.

“Finn?” Rey frowns.

And Finn wants, he really, really wants to smile again and start talking, but he can’t. He’s just standing there with mouth open for several more moments and what comes out eventually is:

“I wanted you to meet Poe.”

Rey frowns deeper.

“I met him, on D’Qar, before I left. While you were still in the hospital. He sat by your side all the time, did he tell you that?” she smiles knowingly, narrowing her eyes in a way that could imply only one thing and Finn. Finn crumples, inside and out.

Rey doesn’t know. They didn’t tell her.

Finn falls to his knees, curls into himself and cries. He cries and sobs and later screams, hits the ground beneath with his fists. Rey is concerned above him, then BB-8 beeps something out and little part of Finn’s brain that isn’t bent on screaming his voice out notes that BB-8 must have explained to Rey what happened to its master and Rey is now trying to comfort Finn. She doesn’t know how though, and her words are completely useless from galaxies away. No one else comes into the room, although they must be able to hear him, so Finn is free to cry and rage and _mourn_ for as long as he wishes.

It’s a very long time.

 

* * *

 

Few days after Finn has his little (ha, little) breakdown, he goes to Lyn.

They talk for a long while - well, Finn talks. He doesn’t know how to start at first, but Lyn encourages him gently, doesn’t push him anywhere he doesn’t want to go, and once Finn finally begins, he finds he has a lot more to say than he thought.

He tells her about being a Stormtrooper first, because that’s where his story starts and nothing would make sense without it. It’s been a difficult thing to come to terms with, that being a Stormtrooper is a part of Finn’s life that makes up who he is a as a person as much as the - comparatively short - time with the Resistance but his head was strangely clear and honest with his heart since the screaming fit he had in front of Rey’s hologram. He tells her about being alone and scared, and the childhood that was stolen from him.Things he never told anyone except Poe. He tells her how Poe Dameron was a wild chance at first, a beacon of hope in the next moment, and a leaden weight of loss in his chest right after. He even tells her about his desire to run and how it fizzed out like bubbles from a lemonade the moment he opened his eyes in a med-bay and Poe sat at his side. Then he tells her things he never told Poe, but told in bits and pieces to Ana and Kaydel and Jess and Mundo. This is the first time he tells it as a whole story. About sleeping with Poe’s warmth at his side and his guard chasing nightmares away. About his laugh and jokes and warm arm around Finn’s shoulder. His eyes crinkled in amusement and shining in the dark. About his body slotting perfectly into Finn’s in a hug and his hair pretty and soft on Finn’s cheek. About a little squeeze in his chest every time Poe was on a mission. About a bigger squeeze every time Poe returned to him. About stories and music and books and friends and fires and skills and food and guidance and a whole new life Poe has given him.

About love that he didn’t know about because he had nothing to compare it to. How it stayed curled up inside him for the longest time and Finn, not knowing its weight, let it grow and flourish unguarded, until it penetrated all his bones and soft flesh inside him, rooted in the very core of what Finn is. It bloomed and became completely, utterly entangled with Finn’s being.

At the end, he tells her things he never told anyone. About how he would think, before, that when the loved one leaves, the love for them is torn out of them, like a flower from a ground, roots and everything, with bits of the person still clinging to the roots, possibly, but it would be gone. And it isn’t and Finn doesn’t know what that means. If that’s normal. If that shining, beautiful plant is supposed to stay, like it stayed inside Finn. If he is supposed to let it wither and die on its own, slowly. How much he doesn’t want to do that. How much he sometimes does, because he isn’t sure there will ever be place in him for another thing like that. How sometimes he hates it, the fact that Poe is gone but the feeling behind him stayed. And how, above everything else, he is terrified that if he doesn’t do something about it, he will just continue hating it and one day, instead of dying, it will twist into something horrible and ugly and sink Finn.

He tells Lyn that he is scared and lost and misses Poe.

Lyn listens to him, calm and without judgement, her eyes shining with tears. When he finally runs out of words, she hugs him quietly.

“It’s okay,” she whispers into his ear. “All of it, everything you feel, it’s okay. Everyone feels things differently, but it’s all normal. And you can never forget Poe. And you can never make Poe into something ugly. It’s okay,” she rubs his back softly, pulls back. “Let’s get dinner.”

They go get dinner.

Finn doesn’t feel better, exactly. But he feels lighter. Next time Rey calls, she is cautious and Finn doesn’t try to smile or pretend. He tells her bits about his day, doesn’t mention Poe and Rey doesn’t ask. When he tells her his goodbye, he adds:

“Be safe.”

“Sure,” Rey replies, half genuine, half teasing, her eyes crinkling. Finn smiles back and it’s small, but real.

 

* * *

 

Fifty-seven days after Poe has gone, Finn finally fills his papers and gets officially enlisted in the Resistance. Which is funny, seeing  that he is a lieutenant already, and a possible budding Jedi on a top of it. Finn is still a little bit surprised how he got away with it until now, but the Resistance is a little bit different and he is a special case. After all, he saw first hand, when he tried to organise the move from D’Qar and sleeping arrangements on Fulcrum base, how little Resistance cares about paperwork.

It’s almost like they’re _resisting_ it.

Finn tells that to BB-8, who is helping him with it. The droid rolls a step from him and lifts its head in that peculiar move that somehow perfectly translates into raised eyebrows on humanoids.

<I advise Master-Finn he doesn’t make jokes in the future.>

“I advise BB-8 it tones the sass down,” Finn replies, but pats the droid affectionately.

The “Master-Finn” thing is new. It makes Finn simultaneously happy and sad. Happy, because BB-8 accepts him now and there’s little Finn cares about more than being accepted, and sad, because BB-8 now also accepts that Poe is not coming back.

He fills the papers quickly, there’s not much he knows about himself after all that can be written down, except the basic information about his body he got in the med-bay still on D’Qar. He puts Thule down as his emergency contact, mainly because it amuses him to imagine the face Thule will pull when he finds out.

 _Finn_ , he puts down as his name, although the General told him that if he wanted to be called differently, it’s not a problem and this is his last chance to make that decision before he officially gets sorted into a database. There is no question for Finn, however, about what he wants to be called. Then he hesitates.

He knows that plenty of cultures in the galaxy use several names for themselves, up to twenty words that contain a person, and sometimes they change throughout their lives. There’s also plenty of cultures that only use one name. Finn doesn’t need a surname.

But.

He also thinks about General Organa telling him how being a Stormtrooper will never leave him. About his own, slow, hesitant realisation that his life before the Resistance will never magically disappear. It’s part of who Finn is, a form that molded him, and sometimes it hinders him and sometimes it helps. He is a soldier. He will never like fighting and violence, he will never enjoy battle. But fight he does, always did, it’s the only thing he knows how to do and he does it well. He chose what he will fight for now, which is important, but he still chose the fight. He is a soldier. He is a Stromtrooper.

He got his first name from a person who formed Finn’s future, and will continue to impact it forever. It’s only fitting that…

 _Trooper_ , he writes next to a surname.

 

* * *

 

On the sixty-third day after Poe left him, Finn wakes up and goes to wake BB-8, brushes his teeth and gets dressed. He goes for breakfast and chats with Gajit who pours him his tea exactly the way Finn likes it. He sits at the table with Bastian and few other dispatchers and makes small talk with those who are awake and then throws bits of bread at those who are not. Bastian hits Jess who sits at the next table in the head.

“Ten points!” Finn shouts and he and Bastian high-five while Jess grumbles at them.

He goes to Statura’s office for an hour and Statura is impressed with Finn’s knowledge of the Shyrian Quadrant and Finn preens, because it’s a praise well-deserved. He was researching the space charts the whole previous evening. Then he goes to his Jedi practise that drags into the late afternoon. Finn eats a late lunch and runs to the hangar to say goodbye to BB-8, who is going to fly recon mission with L’ulo. Then he goes to his shift in the control room, has a dinner and goes to bed early.

On the sixty-fourth day after Poe left him, Finn wakes up, doesn’t wake up BB-8, because the droid is still on recon, brushes his teeth and gets dressed. He goes for breakfast and sits with the dispatchers again, but Bastian is on shift, so their usual bread-throwing competition doesn’t happen. He goes to the command centre after, because Statura summoned him and it turns out they want to give Finn’s team the mission in Shyrian Quadrant.

“There’s no one better suited for it,” Statura tells him, pride in his touch when he puts his hand on Finn’s shoulder.

It fills Finn’s belly with warmth and he knows the poring over the maps was completely worth it. He has another Jedi lesson, shorter this time because the General has business to attend, so he has a long lunch before going to his shift. L’ulo checks in and Finn talks with BB-8 for a while. The pilots invite him for a game of sabbac after the dinner, and Finn goes, because he was busy the last couple of weeks and barely seen Jess and Snap and Chie and misses them dearly. He gossips with Chie more than he plays, and Oddy has collected couple of new jokes since the last time Finn saw him and he laughs until his stomach hurts. He leaves early and studies the Shyrian Quadrant maps for a while before he goes to bed.

On the sixty-fifth day Finn wakes up, brushes his teeth, gets dressed and goes for breakfast. He and Bastian throw bread at their oblivious friends (they’ve been doing this for a while and so far no one seems to be catching on) and Finn accidentally hits Admiral Ackbar.

“It’s not my fault! His head is so _big_!” he whispers while he and Bastian try to stifle their giggles. They’re probably not very successful, but Ackbar is a good sport and only pops the bread into his mouth. If Finn hit Major Ematt, he’d be more concerned.

He spends majority of the day planning the mission to the Shyrian Quadrant with the command and Karé, who will be leading the mission. The General leaves for a diplomatic mission in the afternoon and Finn goes to say his farewells and after early dinner leaves the base and trains alone in the forest. It’s still bright outside, even with Aleidu's erratic daytime Finn knows he has few hours of lights left. He climbs up a fairly tall tree and stands on the highest branch capable of holding his weight, trying to be one with the Force. He feels its currents around himself. It whispers to him, holds him like the waves of the ocean and Finn closes his eyes and lifts one foot like the General told him and concentrates on his balance so deeply, he forgets to concentrate. He sinks into the Force, _trusts_ it, and when he finally opens his eyes, it’s dark around him, the three neighboring moons illuminating the night sky. He must have been up there much longer than he thought. His foot is aching now that he feels the weight of his body again. He quickly climbs down and throws his senses like a fishnet, so he doesn’t kick a tree root on his way back.

On the sixty-sixth day after Poe has disappeared, Finn wakes up and…

Suddenly realises he is counting.

He’s been counting every day for nearly two months, without conscious decision to do so.

As with many things in this life after Poe, Finn knows it probably isn’t healthy. He knows he should stop. He knows he should be moving on and that could be difficult if he begins every new day with a reminder of the piece of his life that is missing.

As with many of these illogical, unhealthy things, Finn knows he isn’t going to stop.

Because the thing is. The thing is, that’s what Poe was. He was a piece of Finn’s life. Not just a person, or a friend, a piece that could, as it turned out, be removed, but it can never be forgotten. Even if Finn wanted, and there were, are, and probably will be, times when he did want that, but it can’t be done. Because it’s a piece so monumental, so life-changing, whether Finn thinks about it or not, it changed and will continue to impact everything he does in his life from the moment he saw Poe from a distance on Jakku.

Just like the people in galaxy count their days by the battle of Yavin. How they split their history and their lives before and after it, the single monumental event that uprooted everything about their existence and, for better or worse, changed it forever. That’s what Poe is. Not just a man. An event, a fate, a ripple through the Force. A single person that neatly divides Finn’s life in Before and After.

Finn gets up, brushes his teeth, gets dressed and, sixty-sixdays after Poe, goes about his usual routine.

 

* * *

 

Exactly eighty days after Poe goes missing, he comes back to Finn.

It’s all very unremarkable. Finn is at the lake under the mountain. He just went for walk to clear his head. He must have gotten further than he planned The base is out of view and he’s at a spot he’s never been before. The rocks are gone. Instead, sand is under Finn’s bare feet. It’s not soft and worn like the sand on the beach on D’Qar. It’s rough and bright. Coloured with desperation. Endless. It’s Jakku sand. Jakku, where Finn has lost Poe for the first time. But it cannot be Jakku, because there is giant fern growing near the water. There was no greenery on Jakku. Green is for hope. Fern is for D’Qar. D’Qar, where Finn has found Poe again. Finn comes closer to the fern. It’s truly monstrous, almost as tall as Finn. He touches a leaf. It’s cold and strong under his fingers. The Force tingles his fingertips. Suddenly, the light in his chest that was dead and cold for so long jumps. Brightens. Then shines with a power of thousand suns. Finn turns around sharply. There is Poe, standing behind him as if he never left.

“Buddy,” Poe says.

He’s smiling. His flight suit that he wore last time Finn saw him is gone. Poe is wearing clothes similar to the outfit he had on the very first time they met. On Jakku. In the cell on Finalizer. But his face is exactly the same. Big, warm smile. Kind, brown eyes. Wild hair. He looks very handsome.

“I was looking for you,” Poe says.

Finn’s chest tries to cave in on itself. He wants to run to Poe, but he is rooted to the spot.

“I flew across the whole galaxy to find you,” Poe says.

Finn’s throat is dry. His eyes burn. The Jakku sand is hot on his soles.

“Come here,” Poe says.

As if that was a magic spell, Finn moves.

It’s like there is no distance between him and Poe. After weeks and months without him the few steps are nothing.

“I said we needed to talk,” Poe says.

And then Poe kisses him.

It’s nothing like the drunk kiss they shared before. It’s warm. And it’s soft. And it’s alive.

Finn can feel Poe’s heart beating through his lips. It’s all-consuming. It pulls Finn in. He doesn’t struggle. He lets himself be consumed, just like with the Force. He sinks into Poe’s embrace. He returns it. He drinks in is warmth. He falls.

 

With a gasp, he wakes.

He's in his quarters on the Resistance base on Aleidu. It’s night, with a hint of light whispering about an early dawn, despite the clock on Finn’s side showing only three in the morning. BB-8 grows faintly from the corner where it's charging. Finn’s blanket was kicked to the floor at some point during his dream, but Finn is endlessly cold in a way that has nothing to do with an actual room temperature. There is no lake, no sand, no huge fern, and no Poe.

Finn sinks back to his pillows and stares at the ceiling. He doesn’t bother to gather his missing blanket. His head buzzes like it's been filed with bees.

Eighty days after Poe Dameron disappeared, he comes back to Finn in a dream. Finn's first dream.

Well, he had a dream he didn't wake up from screaming, anyway. But if this awful feeling like he isn't filling his body properly is a common occurrence with dreams, Finn isn't quite sure what exactly the difference between dreams and nightmares is.

 

* * *

 

On ninety-second day after Poe has gone, Finn wakes up and immediately realises that the light that made home in his chest, the light that was now as familiar in its presence as his own heartbeat, the light that was small and cold and still for the past eighty-one days, the light that Finn now knows is _Poe,_ is gone.

There is an empty space behind his ribs and it’s like one of Finn’s organs is missing, something non-vital but always _there_ just gone. Finn gasps. His eyes are stinging and hot and he puts his palm over them. He makes a sound that could be a dry sob and he breathes. Slowly, calmly. Four seconds in, four seconds out, just like the General taught him.

Then he starts building a dam.

He stares, unseeing, at his ceiling and meditates. BB-8 wakes up and panics a bit, when Finn doesn’t answer its morning greeting. Finn doesn’t hear the frantic beeps. He is lost in the Force, guiding and moving its ribbons inside him, building a wall. He wraps that emptiness inside him in the Force, isolates it from the rest of him, until it goes quiet, numb. When he comes to, BB-8 is moments from calling for help and Finn puts a hand on its dome.

“Sorry, BB-8,” he says. “Jedi things.”

BB-8 grumbles and rolls away, muttering about impossible masters.

Finn gets up and goes about his day. He doesn’t tell the General about the light or the dam he built inside himself, although he thinks it’s probably one of his more impressive Force feats. But he doesn’t want to talk about it. Doesn’t want to think about it.

He knew it was coming, since he found out that little light was Poe’s presence in his life, that one of these days it will go away. It was just a residue of the Force, a footprint Poe left in him and like the ocean on D’Qar washed Finn’s footsteps from the beach, the time will eventually erase all evidence of Poe from the life, even from the Force. But knowing it will happen and it actually happening are two different things. And Finn thought he’s doing well, he might be even getting over it. He doesn’t miss Poe as much as he used to and he is learning to live without him. He doesn’t expect Poe behind every corner anymore. But now the last bond that tied him to Poe is gone and it’s like opening the wound on his back. Finn can’t live with the evidence of it inside him, mocking him every day. Rather than feeling the empty spot every day, he builds a wall around it and makes the space that little light used to occupy disappear completely.

He locks the dam tight and never looks at it again.

 

* * *

 

It’s been exactly hundred days since Finn saw Poe for the last time.

The Poe-shaped hole in Finn’s life hasn’t been filled and Finn is glad for it. It still hurts, but Finn will gladly suffer if only his friend will never fade from his memory. So the hole remains, and Finn guards it, cherishes it, even, however unhealthy that might be, but other things change. The grief doesn’t chase him like a shadow anymore. It retreats to the back of his mind and only steps forward occasionally and sometimes Finn lets it rage for a while, but usually he pushes it back to where it usually lives. He knows now that loss will likely become a regular visitor in his life, so he thinks it’ll be better for his sorrow to learn its place now. They are at war, after all. Finn doesn’t have time to break down every time he smells orchids or sees a familiar toolbox in the hangar.

And he literally doesn’t have the time - the Resistance gains new members all the time, although the influx of new recruits is slowing down now. The First Order seems to fully recuperate from the Starkiller attack and proper fights become increasingly more common. Finn makes a captain about three months into their stay on Aleidu and now leads a team of junior controllers while simultaneously still working in logistics, now mostly planning the pilot’s rotas and supply. It’s decidedly less exciting than ground control during the strikes and Finn is thankful for it. He isn’t Poe and he isn’t trying to be him anymore. He works well when full of adrenaline, his mind still sharp despite the fear, which makes him a great officer and on occasion a brilliant spy, but Finn much rather applies his sharp mind outside of combat. This fight is important, he believes in their cause with his entire being, but he’ll never like the war.

“You are not a fighter, Finn. You are a thinker, a storyteller, a peacemaker. And that’s alright. You, I believe, are what the old Jedi were truly supposed to be,” Luke tells him via the staticky transmission upon learning that the General is going to train him in the Force.

“Besides, looking after everyone being fed and our pilots being rested is in no way a less noble cause than saving a young lady from the clutches of the First Order,” General Organa adds and Rey squeals indignantly from behind Luke:  
“I didn’t actually need saving!” which makes Luke and Leia laugh, which in turn makes Finn and Rey laugh. It’s rare, to hear that joyous sound from the General, but it began to appear more often recently.

She teaches Finn not only how to properly feel the world around him, but also politics and languages and when he flew a diplomatic mission with her few weeks ago, the New Republic representatives kept referring to him as “General Organa’s protegee”.

He supposes that’s what he is. The General doesn’t require of him to call her “Master”, didn’t officially took him as an apprentice, and he didn’t ask for it. Her pride is real and almost tangible, hot and spreading through the space around Finn like a sun before it goes supernova, when he solves how to fix a hole in their defences, when he returns from recon victoriously bearing First Order’s plan of attack on Kashyyk, when he successfully tracks down an animal in the woods using the Force.

He tries not to think of how he’s filling two empty spaces in her heart - one after his worst enemy and one after his best friend. He just hopes he’ll be able to stretch far enough to fill both of them at least halfway, because somewhere along the way, his respect and admiration turned into genuine affection for Leia Organa.

Rey and Chewbacca are due to join the Resistance with Luke Skywalker in couple of weeks and Master Skywalker promised Finn in the most recent transmission that he’ll add a trick or two to his sister’s lessons.

Finn is honestly excited. The Force has become his friend and ally in recent weeks. It’s a blanket of comfort and life he sometimes pulls over himself at night, when the nightmares return with vicious force and Finn is reminded that, besides BB-8 in its charging dock, he’s alone in his quarters, in a bed that could comfortably host two bodies he is the only source of warmth. The lonely trooper, just him against the universe.

It’s not true, though, and thank the Force for being there to remind him.

During the day, he keeps vowing new things into his blanket.

Chie’s smile.

Snap’s shoulder squeezes.

The sunsets, no less breathtaking no matter how many times he sees them.

Jess’ hugs.

The chocolate cake kitchen staff bakes him on his birthday. (has it really been a year?)

The walls in his quarters covered in drawings from Maya and Lilith and Tom, and the others.

The stone walls in most corridors in living quarters covered in chalk paintings, first courtesy of the children, but with most members of the Resistance joining sooner or later.

The sunflowers blooming in the East Garden.

General Organa enjoying the soup he and Kaydel made.

Poe’s father sending him a surprising and heartfelt letter all the way from Yavin IV.

The taste of tea Karé brings him from Naboo.

Rey’s transmissions.

Rey’s smiles.

Rey’s eyes when Luke praises her in front of the whole command.

Blue Squadron safely returning from a mission.

Every day, small things reminding him that he isn’t a Stormtrooper alone against the galaxy anymore.

He is Finn, a member of the Resistance. Captain Finn. Friend Finn. Finn, the protegee of Leia Organa.

He holds that all close to his heart and lets it warm him at night, when he can’t have Poe’s embrace in his bed and Poe’s light in his chest do the job anymore.

And maybe that’s enough.

It’s already more than he ever believed he could deserve.

On hundred and first day after Poe, Finn looks at the holo of him and Red Squadron that traveled with him from D’Qar. He looks at the face of the man who gave him all of this, forever frozen in laughter. He studies the delighted expression, crinkled eyes, wild hair and arm thrown across Finn’s shoulders as if it was its rightful place, and he realises his eyes are wet and his mouth is stretched in smile.

“You would argue, but sometimes I still can’t believe I ever deserved you,” he says softly. “But I’m glad you were there. I’m happy. Happier than I’ve ever been and it’s all thanks to you. And it’s not fair I can’t tell you that. But I don’t actually believe life is about what we deserve. It’s about what we have. And if the only thing I can have of you are the memories, I will fight like a wampa mother for its baby to keep them forever.”

It might be a stupid thing, to talk to a picture, but it, surprisingly, does make Finn feel better.

He goes to wake BB-8 and begins to gather all his memories of Poe Dameron and vowing them into his imaginary blanket, thick and beautiful, right in the middle where it counts the most.

It will be a painful process, but completely worth it.

 

* * *                      

 

On one hundred and twenty-third day of Poe’s absence (Finn honestly doesn't think he can ever stop counting), things change rather monumentally again. It happens like this:

Finn is sharing what is an early breakfast for the first pilot’s patrol and a dinner for him and his team, having just come off the graveyard shift. The pilots are recounting a story from the bar they visited last week, using a very colourful description of their drunken antics that has one of Finn’s young dispatchers blush quite spectacularly. BB-8 at his feet beeps, scandalised.

<Master-Finn, we shall never introduce the pilots to friend-Rey!>

It's rather adorable how the little droid is bend on protecting Rey’s innocence, despite seeing first hand how little Rey needs protection of any kind, and Finn laughs and goes to pat BB-8’s head reassuringly, when its happens.

At first Finn thinks he's been poisoned, when a wave of heat spreads inside him, coming vaguely from the place of his stomach, but before he gives any indication of distress and panics his companions, he realises it's not actually unpleasant - quite the opposite, in fact. It's as if a thousand of his Forced comfort blankets were laid over him and warmth engulfs him from inside out. The comfortable sort of warmth, like the ocean on D’Qar when Poe taught him how to swim, like the bonfire Poe took him to celebrate his first night out of the medbay, like the tea Poe had made him countless times. Finn can't identify what this feeling is, or where it’s coming from. It fills him to the brim, leaving no room for anything else and overloading his newfound sense of the Force.

All he knows is that it's familiar and comfortable and he never wants it to go away.

Before anyone has a chance to notice anything amiss with Finn, a sound very contradictory to his current feeling of comfort and safety pierces the air. The shrill sound of warning sirens fills the base and all around the mess the sleeping base erupts into a movement.  

“There's been breach in the shields!” one of Finn’s team members yells, listening to his comm.

“First Order,” Snap says gravely, standing up and gathering his helmet. On his right, Snap’s second in command, a relatively new recruit named Ciela, who got her current rank because her former captaincy in the New Republic Navy, gets her comm out and rings the rest of the Blue Squadron, urging them to meet at the hangar.

Finn doesn't feel like he's part of any of this. The warmth pours out of him and creates a bubble around him, where all the sounds of action of the base under a strike are muted. He stands up as if he were in a dream and walks out of the mess hall.

“Finn!” he hears Snap’s yell, but he doesn't pause. A small part of his mind that took to unconsciously monitor currents in the flow of the Force that are his friends notices that Snap follows him, but Finn doesn't pay it any attention.  

It's like when he tries to track a living being using the force, but instead of barely-there threat he struggles to follow,  there is a river of light that carries him to the source. He could go against its current if he wanted to, and he does briefly when he seeks major Ematt, because he's still an officer in the Resistance and there are responsibilities, but he knows ultimately he _will_ follow.

“...only one ship on our radars…”

“...looks like a crash, might be just an accident…”

A cloud of controllers and communicators hovers around Major Ematt and Finn hears bits of information, and he stops the flow with one sentence.

“Major Emmatt, requesting permission to scout the crash site.”

Ematt’s team, the major included, stop and stare at him, and Snap behind him gasps -  hard to say if it's the insanity of Finn’s request, or the brisk walk to the command that prompted it.

The brief silence is broken by BB-8 who of course followed Finn.

<Master-Finn surely isn't serious.>

How the Droid manages to insert sarcasm into his beeping, Finn will never know. Major Ematt frowns and opens his mouth, probably to question Finn’s sanity, but Finn doesn't give him a chance.

“They aren’t enemies! I… Know them,” he suddenly realises. He doesn't know how or who they are, but he's never been more sure of anything in his life. He can't explain how he knows, but he knows that the Resistance can't go to the crashed ship guns blazing, or have it shot by an X-wing from the sky.

“Captain,” Ematt says, frown deepening, and he's using his official tone, which doesn't bode well for Finn. “As I understand you've just finished a night shift, so your senses may  lack their usual sharpness, but this is a First  Order ship in our territory with several confirmed life forms on board. We need to proceed with an utmost caution and destroy this threat before it becomes a problem. Under no circumstances I will have one of our brightest strategists and a Force user to go for a scouting mission, no less…”

Any other time, the subtle praise from Ematt would derail Finn, but not this time. He's ready to argue, he'll knock them all out with the Force if he has to…

“Finn’s right. There are no ill intentions from the people on that ship.”

General Organa appears out of nowhere and Finn could kiss her.

“You feel it too? What is it?” he shouts, unable to keep the excitement from his voice, barely restraining himself from bouncing on his feet. He's right! Whatever this is, he is right to feel light and joyful, because the General  feels something too and it makes her smile.

“I don't know what is it, child. But I can feel it's good,” the General steps closer, laying a hand on Finn’s shoulder and turning to the surprised Major. “He needs to go.”

Major Ematt’s face does an impossible feat and he somehow manages to frown even deeper.

“Captain Finn will take a squad of ground troops then,” he says eventually.

Finn would be disappointed by his reluctance if he didn't know it's genuine concern for his well-being, not lack of trust in him that makes the Major hesitant.

But knowing that Major values him not only as a soldier, but as a person, he only smiles.

And he smiles wider when Snap says:

“I want in!” in decisive tone, even though he isn't a foot soldier and his combat and blaster skills are a bit rusty.

And he downright beams when BB-8 beeps:

<I will also accompany Master-Finn.>

Finn doesn't know where is this sudden happiness coming from, but it’s mirrored in General Organa’s eyes and that is enough.

It takes only ten minutes to put the ground squad together and for everyone to be a armoured and armed, and Finn can't stop himself anymore and bounces the entire time, jittery from anticipation. BB8 gives him a string of beeps and whistles that are probably rude words because Finn doesn't understand them, and he is _judged_ by his droid for Force’s sake, but he doesn't even care.

He is technically the leader of the squad, but he sees Major Ematt pull the oldest of the soldiers, Corellian man Finn knows from the gym is named Miles aside, and murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like:

“Watch the kid.”

Finn understands why everyone is confused, because he can't for the life of him explain the feeling that the meanwhile solidifies in his chest. He is still too full of it to be able to take it apart string by string and identify what it is, but there is no need, because it still beckons him to its source, so Finn will soon see on his own eyes. But it's a feeling so fundamentally good, he can't, doesn't need to think about it.

Only much, much later will he realise that this is how the pure _hope_ feels.

“Be careful,” Major Ematt reminds them. “We are on the comms the entire time. Shoot at the first sight of hostility.”

“May the Force be with you,” General Organa says.

“Don't worry. I have a good feeling about this,” Finn grins and the General’s eyes crinkle in amusement, while Snap shoots him a long suffering glance.

Finn knows he should be more careful, but he marches through the forest without even trying to be quiet and look for cover. He knows the soldiers following him probably hate him right now, possibly think he lost his mind and is marching them to death, and Phasma would probably spontaneously combust (what a delightful thought) if she could see how terribly is he breaking the formation, but the Force has never spoke to him so clearly. When the scorched trees begin to mark the ship's unfortunate descent, he slows down after all.

“It's a miracle that thing landed in one piece,” Snap murmurs, eyes roaming the blackened stripe. “Are you sure anyone survived?”

“Positive,” Miles answers, turning on the small scanner and waiting for the machine to do its readings.

<Useless.> BB-8 remarks and begins its own scan.

Finn gets there before them all.

“Nine beings,” he says, eyes almost closed as he concentrates.

Now, when only a line of trees and bushes covers the ship, he can clearly sense the  separate lives.

<Show off.> BB-8 beeps good-naturedly.

“No dead. But possibly injured? I can sense a lot of pain. And…” Finn feels his nose scrunch as he tries to believe his senses, but yes, there is no doubt. “There are some children.”

“What?” Miles exclaims at the same time as his scanner beeps, confirming nine lifeforms aboard the spacecraft. “What do you mean, children?”

“Kids have a very specific Force signatures,” Finn tries, and fails, to explain the specific feel every child has, the boundless energy, clean, bright presence that flickers this way and that, yet undecided in its nature.

“Some of those people feel exactly like the kids on the base,” he settles on eventually.

“I had no idea you could do this,” Snap says and there's awe in his voice.

Finn shrugs, trying to appear humble, but he preens inside at the praise.

And then a voice cuts through the trees from the direction of the fallen ship.

“Hello? Don't come closer! We are armed! Stay where you are!”

It's a female voice, and it's panicked and frightened and jumps from one tone to another as if its owner couldn't decide if they wanted to beg for mercy, or fight, or run.

Underneath all of that it's achingly familiar to Finn, like a long forgotten lullaby, like a quiet room full of sleeping children. Finn’s heart, full already, might just burst, and he moves without thinking, floating on that river the Force so graciously has given to him, because this must be it, this is why the feeling what so familiar, right?

Miles might have shouted something, Snap certainly did, and BB-8 beeps something that sounds concerned, but Finn can't concentrate enough to piece the binary together.

He emerges to the newly made clearing and there she is.

In front of the First Order transport vessel (class K99 his mind supplies) that true to Snap’s words holds together only by a miracle, stands a tall girl dressed in Stormtrooper's blacks. She clutches blaster rifle desperately in shaking hands, its tip pointing at Finn’s chest, her olive skin is glistening from the sweat, cuts and bruises, some fresh, some half-healed littering pretty face. Dark hair that must have been military short once now grows over her ears, untidy. And her black eyes widen when she looks at him and he doesn't care she's aiming a weapon at him, he moves towards her on instinct, because he would never forget those eyes.

“Freeze!” Miles’ voice rings from behind Finn and it's equally possible he’s yelling at her as it is that he's talking to Finn, but it doesn't matter, because he can't stop, and she's already dropping the gun. Finn briefly hopes the safety is engaged before the gun clatters on the ground and Finn has his arms around the girl, trying to be gentle, but most likely squeezing too hard.

No matter though, because she's squeezing him back just as hard.

“Nova!” he says, no shouts.

“FN-2187!” she shouts right back and then they just stand there, clutching each other.

“Nova, Nova, Force, Nova,” Finn says over and over again, eyes shut, inhaling her scent that is, somehow, the same after all those years.

“78,” she whispers back. “78, Finn, Finn, Finn.”

Finn doesn't know how long they just stand there, in the middle of the ruined forest, with the broken First Order ship behind their backs, and major Ematt’s squad confusedly whispering to each other and probably trying to inform the command through the comms that the situation is unprecedented, but under control.

It's the thought of the squad that makes Finn finally pull away. She only lets go slowly, keeping hold on Finn’s arms, and he keeps his hands on her shoulders. He's never letting her go again.

“You're alive,” he finally says, voice full of wonder.

“And so are you!” she beams with her supernova smile. “And a deserter!”

And then it clicks.

“And so are you!” he shouts and then turns around to Miles and Snap and BB-8, laughing. “Guys, this is Nova, she's my friend, and she deserted the First Order!”

Miles’ squad seems flabbergasted at this turn of events, but Snap’s face is slowly stretching into a grin.

<Friend Nova?> BB-8 beeps questioningly, trying the new beeps for “Nova”.

Finn nods again.

“Yes, BB-8. She is a friend.”

“Oh, kriff me in a hole,” Miles mutters and picks up his comm, no doubt going to update the command, and Finn tunes him out. He hears BB-8 carefully whirl closer and feels Snap approach slowly, not afraid of the girl anymore, but rather afraid he'll scare her.

“You are here,” says Finn, still having a hard time believing this. There's still a tug in his chest, less persistent than before, trying to lead him somewhere, but he ignores it because nowhere could be better than here.

“I'm here,” Nova says, seemingly having equally hard time believing it. “Shit went down, so me and eM took kids and followed your shining example.’

“eM?” Finn can't contain his voice once again. Snap behind him chuckles.

<More friends of Master-Finn?> BB-8 asks.

Nova throws a quick glance at the droid and something seems to occur to her at that sight.

“eM is here too? How did you guys escape? How did you find us?” Finn stops babbling when a strangely horrified expression dawns on Nova’s face.

Nova finally stops clutching Finn’s arms (but not before her sudden panic spreads to Finn), instead covers her mouth briefly, eyes wide

“Finn,” she says. “Yes, eM is here, and we'll explain everything, but we need a medic!”

In a very typical, very familiar Nova fashion she throws a quick glance at Snap, assessing who is the leader and then looks past him at Miles, who at her exclamation stopped speaking to the comm.

“We have an injured member of the Resistance on board!” she calls to him. “Please help us.”

And there it is again, the uncertainty in Nova's voice that's somewhere between command and a plea, as if she still can't decide where she stands, but Miles nods and begins to relay the message.

Meanwhile, Finn’s world stops for the third time that day.

“Nova,” he whispers very, very slowly. “Why do you call me Finn?”

But he doesn't wait for answer and rushes into the ship without another word or a glance, because.

Because this familiarity.

This brightness.

This unmistakable warmth.

The dam he built himself breaking.

That light that went cold but never away.

This insistent call, the stream of the Force leading him to the only person that ever truly mattered.

It all makes sense.

Well, it doesn't, but Finn doesn't care about logic or reason right now. He hears Snap’s steps behind him. BB-8 whirls as it also follows on his heels. And he would probably doubt the Force, if he also didn't hear a voice that sounds like freedom and adventure and safety and support and happiness all rolled into one, saying:

“She's there too long, we don't know what happened, the Resistance might be long gone, they might never have come here in the first place, I could be wrong, Ema we don't know what's out there, we need to help…”

It sounds frantic and worried and exhausted and vaguely unhealthy, but it's...

It's…

“Poe, you can hardly stand, for star's sake, sit down.”

Around the corner a new voice joins in.

“Kriffing hell,” Snap wheezes from behind him.

<Indeed.> BB-8 beeps at his feet and even its beeps somehow sound choked off.

And in front of them, with an expression of a tooka in the headlights, stands Poe Dameron.

Surrounded by children of varying age and the same surprised expression. Heavily leaning on eM, of all people, freckles and red hair and all, exactly as she'd been 12 years ago. In unfamiliar dirty clothes. With bandages protruding from beneath his shirt. And blood already seeping through all the layers at his left side. His hair longer and wilder than before. With bruise on his chin and hair on his face that is too long to be a stubble but not long enough to be quite a beard yet, cheeks feverishly pink underneath. Disheveled, obviously starved and injured.

Warm, breathing, wonderfully, beautifully alive Poe Dameron.

Finn can't say anything. There are no words left on this moon. All of them, every language, every alphabet, have been replaced by Poe.

Poe, Poe, Poe.

Finn moves closer, instinctively, without a plan what he he'll do next, but Poe figures it out for him (when doesn't he) and steps out of eM’s hold and into Finn’s.

Finn gladly takes his weight.

“Poe,” he manages to croak out, squeezing Poe’s arms, wanting to draw him into a hug, but also wanting to watch his face and the slow, brilliant smile that's spreading on it.

“Buddy,” Poe says. Then, softer. “Finn.”

And then his eyes roll back and he collapses in Finn’s arms. The world around kicks into action again - Snap yells into his comm with BB-8 beeping frantically, one of the children starts crying quietly and eM moves closer, fluttering above Finn.

But it's okay.

Finn lowers them to the floor while the heat inside him finally settles and concentrates into that familiar ball of soft light and warmth tucked behind his heart where it belongs. And Finn cradles Poe close, inhaling the scent that lacks the usual shampoo and lotion and oil mix, it's dirtier, sweatier, but still so very Poe. His body is completely limp in Finn’s arms, but his heart, his wonderful, kind, _alive_ heart beats steady rhythm against Finn’s chest.

And everything's okay.

 

***

 

Poe is alive, but not quite out of the woods yet.

Finn sits in the med-bay while Kalonia and her team tend to Poe. He isn't quite sure how did this happen, how has Poe come come back to him. There is a story behind it, and he would know if he were at the briefing as he is supposed to, if he stayed with eM and Nova and their group of little stormtroopers, who could probably use his presence. But he can't leave Poe.

It'll be probably a long time before he can let more than one set of doors come between him and Poe.

“You can be selfish every once in a while,” General Organa said and left him in the medbay with strict commands to medics to inform Finn about Poe’s status as of he were the next of kin.

“Obviously,” Kalonia had rolled her eyes. “I really didn't need to be ordered _that._ ”

What Finn knows - what really matters - is that Poe got captured by the First Order, escaped with a small army of Stormtroopers and brought them all back to the Resistance.

“This must be the weirdest habit he's got,” Jess had said with wide grin and streaming eyes when they brought Poe in, having been waiting by the entrance to catch a glimpse of her friend before the medics whisked him away.

“Next time, he'll bring an officer,” Snap joked, his gruff voice betraying him and Jess threw herself into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time. Snap hid his face in her shoulder and Finn’s pretty sure he cried a bit too.

Finn also gathered from the bits of information medics and Nova provided that Poe got himself gravely injured and instead of seeking help he went on and played a hero, helping eM and her little squad to escape and then spent four months hiding from the First Order all over the galaxy and desperately trying to get them back to the Resistance (not made easier by the fact that they left D’Qar) and managed to get his wound infected and contract Stardust Fever along the way.

Obviously.

Poe Dameron doesn't do things small.

“Finn.”

Kalonia’s voice makes Finn spring up from his chair. BB-8 who powered down at his feet after it ran out of swear words whirls back to life.

Kalonia smiles and Finn’s heart rate slows back to the normal levels, his face automatically mirroring her smile.

“He'll be alright,” she says, laying hand on Finn’s arm, the point of contact sending sparks of happiness dancing along Finn’s skin. “He's sleeping now, and likely will sleep for a while, but that's expected. You can go and see him.”

At her words, BB-8 releases a joyful beep and with that rolls full speed into the room.

Finn lingers.

“I can go see him,” he repeats, suddenly realising how incredible, how completely miraculous it is that Poe is here. Finn realises that he's been waiting for this to be taken away from him, to wake up and discovering it this whole day has been a dream, for Poe turning out to be an imposter, or to die on the Resistance’s doorstep. When he's finally faced with the fact that there's only a door between him and Poe, between him and his happy ending, he doesn't know how to take it.

Kalonia isn't helpful. She only laughs and softly pats his arm before walking away, silently waving her goodbye to Finn.

Finn stands there for another beat, before suddenly jumping into action, his body carrying him almost on automat, until he's in the room.

BB-8 sits next to the bed, its little head upturned, softly cooing to Poe. It completely ignores Finn and Finn only smiles and takes the other side of the bed.

And there he is, Poe Dameron, his face still covered in that not-stubble-not-beard and cheeks still feverish, but all the cuts on his face and hands have been cleaned and the grime wiped, his hair pushed back from his forehead. His face is peaceful in his sleep. His body is still, but his chest rises rhythmically and the whole feel of him thrums with life. Finn feels like he could cry, except he's been feeling like this for a while and the tears are nowhere to be found and, hello, this is something familiar. But this time, it feels like his chest is expanding, rather than constricting, like something is trying to push out, breaking his ribs and stretching his muscles. It hurts almost the same, but this time Finn doesn't have a reason to cry, so he isn't worried. He sits in the chair and holds one of Poe’s slack hands. Rubs circles into the too warm skin. Poe’s eyes twitch behind the closed eyelids and Finn rejoices at this tiny sign of life. BB-8 finally quiets and rolls to Finn, pressing against his leg for comfort.

“Hello,” Finn says, suddenly occurring to him he didn't actually greet Poe yet.

Simple hello won't do, though, not now, and not ever, if Finn has his way. And they were meant to talk about this, but that was four months ago and Finn thinks, just this once, he can be selfish. He _deserves_ to be selfish.

He moves closer and presses his lips to Poe’s burning forehead. It's not quite a kiss, more like a very long, very intimate touch and Finn stays there, hunched over his friend's sleeping form for a long time.

“Welcome back, Poe Dameron,” he says and sits back, settling in for a long wait.

Nothing and nobody will get him out of this chair.

 

***

 

Poe sleeps for three days.

Kalonia assures Finn that it's normal with Stardust Fever, but Finn still worries. He'd like to spend the entire time sitting at Poe’s bedside but after the first day it turns out there's only so much staring at somebody's sleeping face one can do before one inevitably gets bored.

The first day is spent in a flurry of visitors - it seems like every single membership of the Resistance wants to see the miraculously returned pilot on their own eyes. Finn can't really blame them. He spent most of the night awake, afraid that if he as much as blinks, Poe will somehow disappear. Only at the break of dawn the exhaustion won and Finn rested in short bursts with his head laid next to Poe’s uninjured side, jumping awake every few moments to make sure Poe’s hand is still in his, blood fluttering at the pulse point, his sleeping body there and real, not just a figment of Finn’s imagination.

All the pilots currently on the base come, Kalonia letting them in in twos or threes with a firm warning not to make any noise and wake her patient. For possibly the first time (definitely the first time Finn has seen) they listen to her and the visits are strangely silent. It's almost unnerving.

Jess and Snap, by the virtue of being Poe’s best friends, get the first slot. Jess manages to hold her tears this time, instead grasping Poe’s hand that Finn isn't already holding and smiling blindingly first at Poe’s face and then at Finn. His face stretches into an answering grin and Jess laughs, quietly, but so brightly one would think they won the entire war already.

“Welcome to the Resistance, kid,” she winks at him. “Where assholes such as this one make you miserable until they pull a miracle and then we pin a medal on them for all the trouble.”

Snap looks a bit lost when unable to express his emotions with a punch to the arm or a bear hug and finally settles on patting Poe’s ankle awkwardly. His touch lingers, however, and his eyes are soft when he speaks.

“This is the last time your bantha ass gave us a scare like this, Dameron! By an unanimous vote, you're from now confined to a ground duty!”

He then claps Finn on the shoulder and without lifting his eyes from Poe’s face says:

“And you, kid, I will forever trust. That Force trick you pulled off, that was something else!”

“Not a kid,” Finn says automatically, scrunching his nose at Jess, but he can't stop smiling.

“By the way, your Stormtrooper friends are alright. They only had some scrapes and bruises, and one dislocated wrist. Admiral Ackbar put them in the diplomatic suite yesterday, so they could stay together. We're a bit unsure what to do with them - they don't really know what to do with themselves either. We didn't want to question them too much yesterday, but it seems something bad went down, so the women grabbed the kids and fled at the first opportunity, which happened to be Poe. By the way, we all love you, Finn, and they seem like a good bunch, but we're not supporting this habit of his. I think they just wanted to find you and then… Probably wait for your orders,” Jess frowns at this. “They're just like you, only worse! It's awful to watch. They just kinda stand there and wait to be told what to do. Even the kids! They don't speak loudly, don't ask questions, don't try to run off or have a closer look even when it's clear something got them curious. Gajit asked them yesterday what they wanted for supper and they just looked at him like he wasn't even speaking basic!”

Jess shakes her head, her eyes aflame and Finn can see how hard she's trying to control her voice for Poe’s benefit, the righteous anger burning her inside.

“That's the First Order for ya,” he shrugs helplessly. “You guys didn't really see that with me, because for the most part I went through that culture shock while I was still stuck in here and by the time we met I was doing much better. And even then, I misstepped dozens of times. It was only thanks to Poe playing mama fyrnock with me that you didn't notice as much.” Finn squeezes the hand he's holding, ostensibly not looking at Poe because he knows the fond expression that would take place on his face wouldn't be overlooked by neither Jess nor Snap. “He did his best to correct most of my blunders and spent whole evenings explaining things to me. That, and that Force gimmick probably helped, too,” he ends with a smirk.

Jess and Snap are quiet for a while after this admission.

“The kids will probably do fine,” Snap says after a moment. “The older woman though, she might have a hard time. How do you know them, anyway?”

“The kids I don't,” Finn shakes his head. “eM was my… Commanding officer, I guess? When I was very young. She was something between a Captain and a nurse to us. I haven't seen her since I was twelve and moved to Finalizer to start proper training. Every battalion had their eM and only after getting mixed up with people from other units I realised she was different. More… Nurturing, I guess?” Finn shrugs. “She was the closest thing I had to mother.”

“Oh, Finn,” Jess says and leans over to hold his hand. Finn smiles weakly.

“I don't know much about her, actually. She must have been a teenager by the time First Order took her. Everything I knew about the Galaxy outside the First Order before I came here, I knew from her. She was the first person to tell me about the Force.”

Finn pauses.

“And then there's Nova. We grew up together. She was always helping everybody, and Phasma… Phasma didn't like that. I guess they thought they could condition it out of her once we were on Finalizer, but they couldn't. So they… Decommissioned her.”

Finn’s throat is dry, Jess’ hand on his overly warm. He doesn't tell them how they dragged Nova away in the middle of night and how he lay in his bed awake and afraid to make a sound until the door closed a Nova's screams went quiet. He doesn't tell them how he cried himself to sleep that night and many nights after. And he doesn't tell them the worst thing, that he thinks they took her as a warning to him, because they were so similar, except Finn was a better soldier, more valuable to keep, worth a bit more effort.

There's silence in the room, Snap and Jess both avoiding looking at him, although Jess’s grip on Finn’s hand tightens and it's comforting despite Finn’s hand being too hot in hers. BB-8, quiet the whole time, coos softly from his place at Finn’s feet.

“Well, she's alive,” Snap says and squeezes Finn’s shoulder. “And she says the story of FN-2187 has spread and there might be more defectors waiting for their chance to escape. It's possible that you've started a rebellion.”

And that's… That's almost too much. It _is_ too much. For little FN-2187 who stood still watching one of the last Jedi in the galaxy being executed. Who curled up in bed silent and shaking while his only friend was being dragged to her - presumably - death. For FN-2187, the defective soldier who can't kill and yet he pressed the metaphorical button that killed everyone he's ever known. For him to have friends who stand by his side with kind words and comfortable touches, to have not one, but half a dozen mentors who value his brain and skills as much as his health and happiness, to fall in love, that is more than he deserves. To have a bed and eat food he likes, to dance in the rain and grow things that are alive, to work and rest in equal measure, that is more than he deserves. All these miracles, those he definitely didn't deserve. But to have a purpose, to be of consequence, an inspiration? That FN-2187 wouldn't even imagine, that Finn wouldn't dare to dream of.

He doesn't know what to say, but thankfully Thule sticks his head in just then, informing Jess and Snap that there's a horde of people waiting outside and that they're preparing to stage a revolt if they're not let inside soon, so Jess and Snap better clear out fast.

It appears that even the best friends privilege only goes so far.

Finn tries very hard not to think what does that make him if he's allowed to stay.

The pilots promise to come back tomorrow, and Jess quickly tells Finn she'll handle the message to Yavin IV to Poe’s father, not to worry. (and Finn immediately feels bad, because not only he didn't worry, he didn't spare a single thought for Kes Dameron until now.)

From then, it's a steady stream of visitors, each small group being allowed ten to fifteen minutes in the room.

Finn is once again confirmed in his belief that Poe’s friends with the whole Resistance, and the whole Resistance is friends with Poe. The majority of people who come are pilots, but there's also plenty of mechanics, technicians, cooks, ground troops, people from intelligence and ground control, and more than few droids.

Even C3PO comes and gushes over Poe and how happy he is for Finn the entire time he's in the room.

Major Ematt is the representative from high command, but Finn has a strange feeling that bringing the card with wishes for quick recovery signed by all senior officers isn’t his main agenda.

He’s right.

“Finn,” Ematt says after good five minutes of awkward silence, and there’s no captain there this time. With most people on the base Finn would know what that omission means, but Ematt is forever a mystery.

“Finn. I feel like I have to… Apologise. For my behaviour the other night. You have proven to all of us over and over again that you deserve all the trust we place in you and yet, yesterday I doubted you, and what is worse, I did this in public, in front of your comrades and subordinates. That was very wrong of me.”

Finn opens his mouth to stop him, wants to assure Ematt he doesn't hold a grudge and that he would probably react not that different were he placed in Ematt’s position. But Ematt holds his hand up.

“I know you don’t require apology. You are very quick to cast every blame on yourself and have people treat you however they please,” Ematt smiles a bit sadly and shakes his head. “But let me tell you this: You are one of us now. You carved a place for yourself here, and I do owe you an apology as I would to any other soldier if I wrongly doubted their abilities. You must know, that for a long time now, I haven’t doubted your loyalty, or your skills in the field. It is the Force I have troubles believing, despite being proved of its existence many times before. And after yesterday, I will remember I should trust your abilities.”

“It’s okay, sir!” Finn finally manages to interject himself. “Few month ago, I myself thought the Force was not much more than a fairytale. I have troubles believing in myself sometimes!”

“As I said, so keen to blame yourself, you are,” Ematt’s eyes sparkle with warmth and amusement and he extends his arm toward Finn. “Perhaps we both learned something yesterday, hm?”

“Yes, sir!” Finn eagerly shakes Ematt’s hand. “Thank you, sir!”

After Ematt leaves, the medbay finally quiets down until Thule brings Finn his lunch.

“Just this once!” he shakes his finger at Finn, laughing. “Don’t get used to the full service!”

General Organa stops by in the evening.

“Go and have some proper food, Finn,” she says after one look at him. “I’ll keep watch.”

And because there is no one in the universe he trusts more than the General to keep Poe safe (and because he is very, very hungry and his back is unbelievably stiff), he stands up from his chair at once.

The General seems to be surprised by this.

“And maybe go see your friends?” she suggests. Finn’s face must do something that tells her she’s pushing it and she chuckles.

“They need you right now,” she tells him and pats his shoulder. “Time to be a good selfless Jedi again!”

<I will also continue to watch over Master-Poe.> BB-8 trills. <If anything happens, I will notify Master-Finn immediately.>     

“See? We’ve got it covered,” General Organa gently pushes Finn out of the room and takes over his seat.

Finn glances back just before the door closes and sees that the General took Poe’s hand in both of her small ones and the expression on her face is gentle, calm, a bit like when she speaks to Luke, but with tenderness that seems otherwise to be reserved for storytimes with children.

Yes, Finn thinks, being a general is just like being a mother.

For Leia Organa it is.

He goes to the mess hall.

It’s too early for dinner, but long after any latecomers for lunch have left, that blessed time between everybody’s shifts when the mess hall is usually almost empty. There’s few soldiers on their day off scattered around, enjoying fresh fruit (there must have been a supply run this morning, which is strange, because he doesn’t remember scheduling one), and a group of mechanics who usually come and go as they please sits in the corner. They greet Finn with a cheer and Finn smiles and waves at them, but opts for an empty table to eat in peace.

He’s finishing his sunfruit with gusto (so sweet, must be already in season, and Finn is again astonished by how much time he spent with the Resistance), when Admiral Statura sits next to him.

Finn gives him a questioning look, his shoulders straightening automatically and Statura smirks.

“At ease, Captain,” he says and Finn smiles and goes back to his sunfruit.

Statura shakes his head and begins doctoring his caf with the usual insane amount of sugar and cream. When he’s silent for a moment, Finn grins.

“Where is the usual lecture about being friends and off duty, sir?” he asks, emphasising the word “sir”, his grin stretching wider when it has the desired effect and makes Statura roll his eyes.

“I was going to, but then I remembered the new Stormtroopers - I met them yesterday,” Statura says, his concentration on stirring the caf completely fake. “And suddenly, so much makes sense.”  
Finn’s smile falls in an instant and he suddenly feels frozen from inside.

“So now you pity me?” he asks and is unable to stop the frost from invading his voice as well.

“No, _Captain_ ,” Statura rolls his eyes again, some of the familiar biting sarcasm back in his voice, and Force, Finn is glad for that. “I will not pity you, but some things are clear to me, now. For example that there’s no point in trying to make you like us. There’s no point in trying to change this, because Stormtrooper is part of who you are and that’s alright.”

“General Organa told me something very similar a long time ago,” Finn admits quietly.

“And she’s a very wise woman,” Statura smiles. “Until yesterday, you were the only Stormtrooper any of us met, but now that I have some frame of reference, I see how much of the things I keep bugging you with are part of your upbringing, and how much is really you - and how much of a hypocrite does that make me. Seeing the others, I can see how much you all have in common, how much does First Order’s influence make who you are, but at the same time each one of you is still a separate person. I only met the group for a while and I could see so many of your quirks in them, but not all. For all your similarities, you’re all different, too. And isn’t that the same with most people on this base? We’re mostly veterans, or children of veterans. I never really thought of it, but I guess I never really tried not to be a soldier. I wanted to be a scientist, that’s all me, but the fighting part, my loyalties? Those were given to me by my parents and my childhood. In many ways, what you guys did showed more individuality than all the choices all people on this moon have ever done. So. There probably never will be a time when the First Order won’t loom over your life, but there also never will be time when my father’s legacy will not be a shadow on mine.”

Finn’s looking at Statura with his mouth hanging open and... Are his eyes wet? Will this finally be the thing that breaks him?

“You guys,” he sniffs. “You gotta stop being so nice all the time, it’s a war out there for kriff’s sake, how is a Stormtrooper supposed to deal with all these _emotions_?”

He spits the word “emotions” as if it was dirty and Statura throws his head back and laughs.

“Don’t worry, Jedi-boy,” he reaches over the table to pat Finn’s hand. “There will be plenty of people who _will_ pity you. I’m just very compassionate and accepting.”

Finn grimaces at him and goes back to his sunfruit while Statura sips his caf in silence.

“Did you want to see them?” Statura asks.

“Yeah…” Finn says slowly. On one side, he really does, but on the other, there’s a pull back to Poe’s bedside. Poe’s little light in his chest is subdued but bright, and that tells Finn without a single doubt that his status is unchanged.

“Yeah, yeah I’m going to,” he decides.

“Want me to debrief you?” Statura offers and Finn nods, so Statura finishes his drink in one gulp and they both walk to the Command Centre.

On the way there Finn tries to follow the thread that connects the little light in his chest to actual Poe in the medbay and is pleasantly surprised how easy it is. Probably because he’s done it so many times on pure instinct before. He also discovers he can feel Poe much better than anyone else, General Organa included - it’s almost as if he were in the room with him, he can hear Poe’s steady breaths, feel the fever still raging in Poe’s body, he can even detect Generals bright light spreading calm and steadiness from a point beside Poe.

Satisfied with this, Finn pays his attention to Statura. The Admiral takes him to one of the small offices off the main command rooms.

There isn’t actually that much to be said, aside from location of the Stormtroopers’ temporary quarters, security codes for the guards and a warning not to disclose any Resistance info Statura issues in a bored voice with a look that tells Finn precisely how little Statura thinks about importance of such warning, but protocol is protocol.

Besides that, there is a thin folder of information the Resistance gathered on the group of defectors so far. Each of the Stormtroopers has precisely two flimsiplasts of info - one page detailing the manner of their arrival on the base and their personal account of the events - Finn ignores those. He knows _how_ they arrived, being there and all, and he’d rather hear the details from eM and Nova themselves. The second page has their pictures and basic info the Resistance took yesterday. Those, Finn reads.

eM and Nova he knows - although the name eM must have given the command curiously reads Ema on her file - but he looks at the kids, so he doesn’t go in blind. He realises he’s preparing for this as if it was a field op, and that probably isn’t the healthiest way to cope, but he’s had enough _emotions_ for a year today.

There are three boys and three girls. Two of the boys have their ages placed at twelve. Finn knows that their exact age is anyone guess, and he guesses that one of them, a kid with skin as dark as Finn’s and head of dark curls that stand around his head like a messy halo, as Finn suspects his would if he didn’t cut or brush it for couple of months, is close to thirteen, if not over. His expression is solemn, serious, his shoulders straight, his posture military. Finn can see himself in this boys whose name reads Sam, and he quietly turns the page.

The second boy looks much younger, as if he just turned twelve. He’s much shorter, his shoulders thin. He couldn’t be more different from Sam, if someone made them on purpose. His skin is shockingly pale, dark eyes slanted like Statura’s. His hair is also dark, but completely straight, thick strands falling into his eyes. Unlike Sam, he smiles shyly into the camera. The file states his name is Blast.

Next is a girl, according to the file eleven years old and named Fay. Like Sam’s her face is serious, her whole body tense and straight. She will be a beautiful thing when she grows up, Finn can already tell, with big brown eyes, porcelain skin and chestnut hair growing just past her ears and curling at the ends. There’s fire in her eyes, visible even through the picture, that reminds Finn of Nova, but also hardness, stone cold, that worries him.

Then there’s another boy, this one grinning openly, his body loose and relaxed and Finn knew children like him, that were quietly taken away at night, too happy, too free to ever be obedient little soldiers, their souls too pure to be broken by the First Order. Finn sees it in this little boy, the child he is that the First Order couldn’t beat out of him, and understands why would eM want him out of there. His age says nine and his name Fuzz, and Finn wonders if he was given that nickname based on his looks - his skin is dark, just few tones lighter than Finn’s and his hair is a shockingly bright blond mess against it, standing in fluffy curls atop his head.

Last two children are little girls, aged seven and six years old.

The older one’s name is Gal and she’s slight and similar to Nova with almond shaped dark eyes and black hair braided in two short and very neat plaits, her skin the colour of milked down caf. She looks bashful, shoulders drawn in as if trying to take as little space as possible.

The youngest child is named Sunny. She gives the camera a wide smile, showing all her missing teeth. Finn has to smile too. With her caramel skin, not unlike Poe’s, big sky blue eyes and a head of soft, blond curls that are a bit wild at the top, but much more orderly where they fall past her chin, she seems like a personification of her name. Finn can tell that she’ll become darling of the Resistance.

Finn wonders, on his way to the diplomatic lounge where the ‘troopers are temporarily placed, how many of the children were given their names by fellow Stormtroopers and how many gained their names only recently, after their escape.

How many of them Poe named.

Finn actually gets nervous, when he finally stands in front of the door. The adrenaline fueled snippets of conversation with Nova and eM he had yesterday not counting, this will be the first time in twelve years he’ll see them.

Finn takes a deep breath and presses the buzzer. The door opens almost instantly.

“Finn,” Nova breathes.

She’s cleaned, her hair brushed. The Stormtrooper blacks are gone, instead she’s dressed in simple white tunic and pants, similar to the ones Finn was given in medbay when he first arrived. It almost seems like it became Resistance standard issue for misplaced Stormtroopers.

“Nova,” Finn smiles widely.

Nova’s hands twitch, but unlike yesterday when shock and fear and adrenaline probably pushed her, she’s hesitant to initiate physical contact.

Finn isn’t.

“Nova,” he says again, enveloping her in an embrace. “Hello.”

“Finn,” she sighs and sinks into the hug.

It feels like coming home. Of course, Aleidu and the Resistance are Finn’s home now, but if he had a childhood and parents and a bedroom he grew up in, like Poe has on Yavin IV, he imagines this would be like coming back to it, coming back from war.

“Nova, share,” says a familiar voice from behind and when Finn lifts his head, eM is standing there, with a bundle of children behind her back watching Finn with wide eyes. eM extends her arms and Finn steps out of Nova’s embrace and into eM’s.

It’s so familiar and comforting for a moment Finn feels like he never left, like the past twelve years since he stepped out of eM’s arms never to return didn’t happen. But they did, and Finn is glad, because everything good and bad led him here, led Nova and eM, the only family he ever had back to him, led them all to the place where they are allowed to _be_ a family.

“Come in and meet everyone, my little soldier,” eM says and pulls Finn inside.

There, Finn is met with six children whose expression range from excited and admiring to absolutely terrified. Finn kneels down so he’s on their level, something a superior in the Order would never do, but he salutes with precision and looks straight ahead while reciting his greetings, which is standard for soldiers when introducing themselves.

“Good day, comrades. My serial number is 2187, second battalion, FN Corps.”

Then he grins and looks each child in the eye.

“But my name is Finn,” he continues, softer. “I’m a captain in the Resistance, but you don’t have to salute me or stand at attention, because here, you are children, not soldiers. And everything you heard about me is probably lie,” he flashes a smile and sly eye at eM, who chuckles and shakes her head.

“It’s not me you have to worry about. Your friend Poe is the one who’s been spilling stories of daring adventures with you at the center.”

Finn looks down bashfully, his cheeks heating up, but can’t stop the smile that’s spreading on his lips.

“He said you’re a hero!” a boy’s voice says and Finn lifts his head to the youngest boy, Fuzz, giving him a contemplative stare. “Is that not true?”

The girl named Fay frowns and pokes Fuzz’s back from behind, and the kid quickly straightens.

“Apologies!” he says and somehow he manages to sound respectful and surly at the same time. Finn has troubles hiding a grin. “My designation is 193, FZ Corps, First battalion.”

“You are not soldiers here,” Finn repeats, extending his hand for Fuzz to shake. The boy takes it eagerly, giving Finn a brilliant smile and then looking back at Fay with what Finn expects is a “I told you so” look. Fay rolls her eyes and blushes when she sees Finn watching her.

“As for being a hero… I did only what I thought was right. And I try to protect my friends as best as I can. In my books, that’s what any good person should do.”

The kids watch him with wide, amazed eyes.

“But for some people, that is a definition of hero. And I did have few adventures that make for an interesting story,” Finn chuckles. “But if I’m a hero, so are you. You escaped the First Order just as I did and I bet yours is a story worth telling too! In fact, I would love to hear it.”

He looks at eM with his best puppy eyes, while Sunny and Fuzz whoop at his words, the rest of the kids exploding in quiet chatters between themselves.

“Yes, Ema, can we tell Finn how we escaped? Please, please, can we?” Sunny bounces on her feet, making Finn and Nova laugh. eM smiles indulgently and nods.

“Yipee!” Sunny hops forward, taking Finn’s hand with no fear, pulling him towards a sofa.

“I’m Sunny!” she says, not bothering with designation. “And this is Gal, Fay, Blast and Sam!” she points at the rest of the children. Gal bows her head, avoiding eye contact, Blast gives him a smile and Sam is the only one to salute. Fay goes for the salute as well, but aborts the gesture halfway through and gives him an uncertain smile as well, which Finn returns, trying to be as encouraging as possible.

They sit down, and with the children - but mainly Sunny and Fuzz - excitedly talking all over each other and Nova and eM occasionally stepping in and filling the gaps, Finn finally gets the whole story. It goes like this:

After eM was a bit too lenient with her children one too many times, the order came to execute her. She was already standing before the firing squad, Sunny and Gal and their entire - eM's entire - battalion standing in front of her, ordered to watch their carer die. And then Poe came down from the sky like a miracle. Before he managed to do anything he got shot down from the sky, but he still managed to steer his X-Wing right into the wall behind eM, causing chaos between the guards and allowing eM to grab a fallen blaster. Sunny reacted quickly and ran to eM's side and Poe dug himslef out of the X-Wing wreck and joined them with his own blaster and without a single word between them, Poe and eM, back to back, blasted their way into the base where Sunny led them into a secret room in the basement where no one would find them. In the evening, when the base calmed down, Sunny sneaked into her dormitory to get Gal and Gal informed Nova and Nova took some more children with her and with Poe piloting a stolen ship they escaped. The ship didn't have enough fuel so they couldn't make a jump all the way to D'Qar immediately and with Poe injured as he was - "Stubborn boy, that one, I thought he was going to die on us several times but instead he managed to get us through one danger after another," eM says - finding more fuel proved difficult. By the time they finally got enough to go to D'Qar, the Resistance was gone. 

With some quick math and a lot of dismay Finn realises Poe missed the last transport just by a day or so.

Poe offered the Stormtroopers to take them to a safe planet where they could hide and he would continue searching for the Resistance on his own, but they refused - partly because they were too worried he wouldn't make it on his own.

"And partly because we wanted to be hero like you!" Fuzz shouts. "We want to fight the First Order and save more kids!"

"I'm very proud of you," Finn tells him and ruffles his curls. Fuzz offers the most brilliant smile in return.

"And we were right about Poe probably not making it without us," Nova adds. "He was too injured - and it was so difficult to track you guys down - and no one would trust us and people tried to shoot at us..."

"We couldn't get him to the medic, we were being tracked by the First Order at some point, we couldn't even get any decent amount of bacta," eM sighs, her expression clouding with unpleasant memories. "It was... There was a time I thought he won't make it."

Finn remembers vividly that morning when the light - Poe's light - fizzled out and makes the connection; and his insides curl painfully and he has to bring back the image of Poe sleeping peacefully in the medbay, his hand warm in Finn's, has to concentrate to see the small room where the General still sits and Poe's breaths are strong end even.

"But we managed!" Sunny says.

"And here we are..." Blast finishes quietly.

The food arrives just then, and eM wrangles the kids into sitting down and eating it. It’s not too difficult, partly because, with exception of Fuzz and Sunny, even after four months touring the galaxy with Poe, they still have listening to the orders coded deeply in their minds, partly because meal time seems to be an exciting endeavour for them, something Finn remembers well from his first weeks with the Resistance.

Nova hangs back with Finn, snatching few pieces of fruit from a plate, and it turns out Finn was absolutely right when he called the children heroes.

“They assigned me a new designation when they took me from FN Corps,” Nova says, taking Finn’s hand and weaving their fingers together. “MT-313. All the creche leaders were in MT Corps. We think it was meant to be a short for “mother”. How fucked up is that?”

Nova laughs unhappily and Finn squeezes her hand. A more sincere smile tugs at her lips at that, but she doesn’t look at Finn, instead keeping her sight on the children, eating and chattering, happy.

“Being a creche leader was a punishment for people like me and Ema, you know? They took the most nurturing, most motherly women and gave us thousands of children to care for, and then they forbid us from caring. It was a punishment for being able to love, and a way to break that ability. For twelve years I watched the girls who came with me growing colder and colder, until they became just like Phasma, their hearts hardened beyond recognition. And those who couldn't do it, I watched slowly go insane. Like Ema. It’s a particular brand of insanity, where you start caring more and more, protecting your children from the Order, showing your humanity bit by bit, until you can’t hide it anymore, and they take you and kill you. I knew it was going to happen to Ema, and I warned her, but she didn’t even care at that point. And then Gal shows up at my bunk one evening, telling me they tried to execute Ema, but a Resistance fighter came and saved her, and now he’s hiding with Sunny and Ema downstairs and they need help. And by the way, he knows FN-2187.”

Nova now looks at Finn and her smile is genuine now.

“You have no idea how that felt,” she adds.

“Maybe I do,” Finn chuckles. “Felt a bit like hope, didn’t it?”

Nova shakes her head.

“As if I knew what hope felt like,” she shrugs. “But looking back, yes, that must have been it. So I go with Gal and meet this miraculous Resistance fighter and he looks ready to die on us all, but when I mention there are two boys in my battalion who could use a way out, he doesn’t hesitate one second to plan a rescue mission. Sunny’s all in, obviously, and Gal is shaking like a leaf, but she volunteers to be a distraction with me, as Sunny and eM couldn’t show their faces and we go get Sam and Blast. I still remember the first time I met Blast and I immediately knew he was one of those who were not going to make it, so I just dismissed him, but the next time I saw him, there was this child toddling after him that reminded me of you so much. And despite all the odds, Blast have made it, because Sam was always behind him, ready to catch. Just like you were, when we were kids. And just like you, all the officers tried to beat it out of Sam, and tried to separate him and Blast multiple times over the years, but those two always found their way back to each other. I might have helped couple of times,” Nova gives Finn a wink and Finn laughs.

“So the kid you thought was not gonna make it became your favourite to the point you had a ticket out and you came back to get him?” he pokes her side. “Sounds just like Nova I know - unreasonable and emotional!”

“You are the one to talk!” Nova pokes him back. “So we go get those two and you know what’s the first thing Blast says? He says, great, but we have to make stop in seventh battalion and get FY-7619 - that’s Fay - because she was always helping me and the officers are giving her a side eye and I think she’ll be in for reconditioning soon, and if we just disappear and leave her here, she’ll be in double trouble, because everyone knows we’re friends. And so it turns out that the whole time I was watching Blast and Sam like a hawk trying my best to protect them, under my nose there was another kid from the next battalion who got soft spot for Blast and, completely unnoticed, teamed up with Sam and made it her mission to help Blast out as best as she could. So we go get her, and on the way to the rendezvous with Poe and Ema, she mentions she heard some officers talking about another execution the next day, this kid who apparently resists all conditioning, and he’s locked up in the holding cells and that’s on the way to the hangars, so maybe we could make the stop.”

“And you obviously made the stop,” Finn can’t stop laughing, pointedly looking at Fuzz.

“We made the stop,” Nova grins. “It was such a stupid thing to do. But at that moment, it just felt like all or nothing. So we break Fuzz out, he of course knows secret path to hangar through the vents, so we use that. By the time we get there, Poe is starting a ship that in no way will fit us all in, and I thought for a second he will just leave us all hanging, but he smiles and asks me if every Stormtrooper is as bad at counting as I am, or his injury got so much worse he sees double amount of kids than I mentioned.”

Finn splutters, because of course, that is exactly what Poe would do.

“So we get another ship, meanwhile the whole hangar is swarmed by troopers, but we made it out. And the rest is history.”

Finn is quiet, watching the children with Nova for a moment. Fuzz is sneaking his hand towards last piece of sunfruit on Blast’s plate, who is oblivious to it, caught up chatting to Fay. Sam, however, apparently developed an instinct for when harm creeps up on his friend - something Finn’s more than familiar with - and catches Fuzz’s wrist just as the boy makes grab for the fruit. That catches Blast’s attention, and he laughs and takes the fruit out of Fuzz’s hand gently, breaks it in half and gives one to Fuzz, keeping the other. Fuzz happily bites into it and Blast tells him something that makes Sam pat his shoulder gently and Fuzz nods, looks at Sunny who is making eyes at the sunfruit and gives her a bite. Sunny glows, Fuzz smiles, everyone seems to be absolutely content.

What an impossible group of children, Finn thinks. Spread through three different corps and four battalions they somehow found each other, the tiny seeds of humanity amongst people who had love and care conditioned out of them.

“Makes you think, doesn’t it,” he tells Nova. “We were probably not as alone as we thought when we were kids.”

When the dinner is over and eM (Ema! Finn corrects himself) makes the kids wash up, Sunny creeps over to Finn.

“Finn?” she asks, giving him puppy eyes that would put even Ahib to shame. “Do you think… Would it be possible for us to go and see Poe? Just for a while?”

And Finn thought Sunny could never be shy, but now she seems a bit unsure, almost fearful of making a request.

“Of course!” he says, with the widest smile he can muster, because he remembers so well how difficult it was at first to ask for things, and his heart aches for these kids who will quietly wish for things that seem impossible to reach, but are in fact very simple, just need to be asked for. “If Ema is alright with it, I can take you right now!”

Ema is alright with it, so they all pile out of their rooms and follow Finn to the med-bay. It’s after visiting hours, but Finn knows Kalonia will understand.

The General is still with Poe, but stands up when they arrive.

“Hello,” she greets them kindly. “I apologise for not visiting you today, but the days can get very hectic here for one lone General. I hope the quarters you were assigned are adequate?”

The children stop dead in their tracks, even Sunny who was hurrying Finn the entire way here, anxious to see Poe, and watch the General with wide eyes, clearly knowing who she is and astonished that not only superior officer, but the leader of the whole Resistance shows interest in their well being. Nova and Ema are too speechless and Finn knows exactly how difficult it is to get used to the General being the General after a lifetime of being exposed to Snoke’s idea of leadership. They all know in their minds that the Resistance operates differently, but it’ll be a while till their hearts accept it as well.

“Yes, ma’am,” Ema finally gathers herself enough to speak after Nova throws her a desperate gaze. “They are more than adequate. They’re perfect. We thank you so much for your kindness…”

Once Ema starts talking she seems unable to stop and Finn quickly steps in.

“They just wanted to visit Poe,” he says. “It seems like he made another bunch of lifetime friends.”

“I wish Commander Dameron was half as good in completing the mission objective and returning to the base within reasonable amount of time as he’s at making acquaintances,” the General replies dryly, giving final pat to BB-8.

The group of Stormtroopers behind Finn looks taken aback at the critique of their hero, and Sunny and Fuzz are frowning in disagreement (although Finn knows they wouldn’t dare to say anything), so he gives them an encouraging smile.

“She’s joking,” he explains. “The General loves Poe.”

The superiors having any kinds of feelings for their soldiers is probably as foreign concept for them as Snoke looking after their comfort, but it clears the frowning little faces and Finn knows they will eventually get used to the teasing and affection as he did.

“Maybe tomorrow Finn can give you tour of the base?” General Organa addresses Ema before she leaves. Finn sees it for the blatant excuse to get him out of the med-bay that it is, but now that he tested he can monitor Poe from afar, he doesn’t protest. Nor does Ema or anyone else.

“Yes, ma’am. It will be our pleasure ma’am,” she nods.

“Yes, ma’am!” the children chorus. It’s hard to guess whether they truly want to or they just don’t realise they could refuse - possibly a combination of both - but Finn thinks getting into particulars of free choice and consent is a bit too early at this point. The change of scenery can do them only good anyway.

With a wish of good night General Organa departs, the kids huddling closer together when she passes them. Only Fuzz stays with shoulders straight and gives her contemplative gaze, at which the General lifts her hand and briefly ruffles his curly hair. She chuckles all the way down the corridor at the astonished expression the boy pulls at the gesture.

Kalonia sticks her head in after the General leaves.

“Ten minutes only, okay?” she says. “You kiddos should be in bed soon anyway. And don’t wake him up, please!”

The kids gather around Poe’s bed in absolute silence, hands firmly behind their back. Even Nova and Ema are quiet, not daring to touch Poe or speak. Kalonia gives Finn horrified look and he returns it with sad smile.

“The perfect example of First Order’s conditioning. Guess no more disbelieving stares for me, huh?” he whispers to her. “Leave them. They’ll be just as wild as Mundo and Ana’s bunch in no time.”

Kalonia nods and disappears back to her office with unhappy expression and lips in a thin line.

The former Stormtroopers move to leave exactly ten minutes after that, their internal clocks working as well as Finn’s. Kalonia comes out to wish them all good night.

“And I hope to see you again soon. Poe will surely appreciate your visits,” she tells them with smile that is a little bit sad at the edges, but genuine.

Surprisingly to Finn, it is Sam who, after brief glance at Sunny’s suddenly unhappy eyes, steps forward, shoulders square and looking somewhere at Kalonia’s arm, carefully avoiding eye contact.

“Ma’am,” he says with the resolution of a man who is scared to death but determined to carry through, even though his voice is shaking. “Will Poe... Commander Dameron, will he be alright?”

Kalonia’s expression melts and when Finn glances at Nova, he sees she has the proudest expression one can have while still keeping their face more or less motionless.

“He will be absolutely fine, I promise. He just needs his rest,” Kalonia assures them.

“He looks very pale,” Sunny pipes up, very quietly.

“Oh, starling,” Kalonia drops on her knees so she looks Sunny in the eyes. Her bottom lip quivers and Finn can feel the fight against conditioning in her brave little heart, when part of her being insists she can’t look a superior in their face, and the other part, the part that made her impervious to the First Order, desperately wants to search Kalonia’s eyes to make sure she’s telling the truth, to assure herself that her hero will be truly alright. “He’s a bit ill right now, but I absolutely swear to you he will be good as rain soon. Pinky promise?”

Sunny is obviously confused when Kalonia stretches her little finger to her, and the doctor hangs her head and smiles sadly.

“You wouldn’t know what that is, would you,” she says.

Finn drops to a crouch next to the two of them and gently takes Sunny’s hand.

“Pinky promise means a promise that can’t be broken,” he says, using the words Maya had told him so long ago. “You take your pinky, like this,” he gently models Sunny’s hand to the right shape. “And hook it to the other person’s. And now you’re forever bound to each other in this promise like a thread of gold and what the promise holds, will surely happen.”

Sunny finally smiles, watching her tiny pinky hooked to Kalonia’s callused one intently and Kalonia smiles back, and then at Finn, warmly, proudly, and Finn basks briefly in the feeling that reminds him of warm, sweet tea sliding down his throat, all comfort and happiness.

BB-8 catches up to them when they leave medbay.

<Is Master-Finn returning tonight?> it enquires. <If not, am I allowed to stay with Master-Poe?>

“Oh, man,” Finn scratches his head. “We’ll have to figure out what to do with this two-masters situation, hm?” he kneels down, beckoning BB-8 to him. “I will be back, just have to walk my friends back to their rooms. Would you like to quickly meet them?”

The children are enchanted with BB-8, especially when Finn explains the droid belongs to Poe, and it seems rather content to be petted and cooed over - well, of course it is, nobody loves attention as much as BB-8. It tries new beeps for their names and Finn translates BB-8’s thanks for bringing Poe back home.

“Wow, Finn, you speak binary now?” Nova gasps and the kids are no less impressed.

After he finally gets them all back to their fancy quarters and says his goodbyes with promise to come and get them tomorrow so they can all have lunch in the mess hall and then the promised tour of the base, he goes back to Poe’s bedside, where BB-8 awaits him.

<I like Master-Finn’s friends. Will they be staying?>

“Yes, BB-8,” Finn says, happiness blooming in his chest like a flower on a summer morning. “I’m pretty sure they will be staying.”

Finn doesn’t sleep well that night either, but he’s up early nonetheless, ready to spend most of the day touring the new members of the Resistance and being a bouncer between them and other people with much more traditional upbringing.

It turns out to be easier than he expected in the end. Finn suspects that partly he should be thankful to Jess and Snap who spread the story how the Stormtroopers saved Poe’s life, and that gives the group a good amount of respect from the pilots. Their backs are patted and their hands are shaken and a fair amount of jokes at Poe’s expense and how he should just swap the sides, considering that he teams up with the enemy more often than not is being told. Finn can tell that this confuses the former Stormtroopers as much as it pleases them, shocks them as much as it fascinates them. They all blush and stutter as one at the beginning, but as the day progresses and the same ritual of handshake-praise-heartfelt thanks repeats, Ema and Nova start shaking their heads and try to explain how it was really Poe who saved them (Finn privately thinks the all saved each other, much like he and Poe did), while the kids, particularly Sunny and Fuzz, grow more confident and bask in the praise, puffing their small chests and lifting their heads.

Partly Finn thinks it was the command, mainly Statura and the General herself probably, who spread the information about how to treat the Stormtroopers.

Statura sits with them at the dinner (Sunny, Fuzz and Nova _loved_ eating at the mess, while Gal hated it, but after few minutes of persuading from Sunny, she eventually agreed to go back there for evening meal). Having superior officer present still makes them all go quiet, despite seeing several times during the day Finn’s interaction with them and being proven over and over that there’s no reason for fear.

“Good day?” Statura asks casually.

“Yes, sir,” Ema answers for the group, staring straight ahead. Statura’s face does strange gymnastics where it can’t decide between a frown, a resigned eye-roll and smirk and Finn knows the Admiral has to control his voice to sound even when he says:

“At ease, soldiers.”

It doesn’t really help, so Finn takes the conversation upon himself, a task he became familiar with during the day every time his little group of Stormtroopers was out of their depth.

“Everyone is really nice,” he says. Chie Tanga sits opposite him then, tray full of fruit, and Finn gives her meaningful look. “Unlike my first weeks on the base.”

Chie, wampas have her ass, only grins.

“You took the brunt so every other Stormtrooper that Dameron would like to drag here won’t have to. Think of yourself as a martyr!” she tells him and laughs when Finn kicks her.

The conversation then turns to the new type of X-Wing that just came in, as it often does between the pilots when Statura is present, and Finn tunes it out, instead watching the kids.

Sam concentrates on his food, occasionally poking Blast, who stares at the pilots in awe, food completely forgotten. When Statura notices the boy’s interest, he makes point to involve him in the conversation, and Blast stammers and looks at the table intently at first, but soon is fully included in the conversation, asking clever questions and making reasonable points and Finn sees Statura studying him with interest. Finn noticed earlier in the day that Blast was very obviously very smart, interested in mechanics more than people, and not shy at all - his quietness and timid behaviour more of a thing he learned, was beaten into him in the Order that he forgot the moment something captured his curiosity and out of all children he was the one asking most questions. He stuck with Sam the whole time, the boys never moving more than few feet from each other, but Finn quickly realised that it was part an instinct grown from years of the two of them standing against the world, but in Blast’s part more of a consideration to Sam, than anything else. Of the two, Sam is the shy, scared little boy. Perfect soldier at the outside, but inside full of doubt and fear and almost manic need to protect this little family he managed to gather around himself. Finn saw how he constantly watched the children and their surroundings for potential danger, and held back at every conversation. Fay is the true soldier of the group - strong from inside out and fierce with it, smart and focused, the pride of the First Order, if it wasn’t for the strange caring streak Finn has no doubt they would erase if she ever got to the full training. He imagines Phasma might have been like her, once. Fuzz is falling asleep against Ema’s shoulder, his belly full and his body tired from running and skipping around the whole day - it seems like the boy doesn’t have a calm setting, constantly on move, looking into every corner with wide eyes full of innocent curiosity, staring at passing droids and aliens, asking Finn millions of questions about each of them. Fuzz loves the hangar, he loves the gardens, loves the kitchens and mess hall, loves the pilots, loves Amara’s lekku bouncing behind her, loves to stick his hand in the waterfall and giggles when it sprays his face and then wet his hands and chases Sunny and Gal all around the landing strip trying to soak their dresses. He’s a ball of bouncing energy and joy and love and Finn’s chest hurts when he thinks the First Order almost quenched that light before it had chance to fully shine. Gal and Sunny (and Nova) stare at Jess with rapt attention while she’s telling him about the Red Squadron last mission. Gal and Sunny love stories, although Finn suspects they love different kinds of stories. The way they listen is different, too. Gal is quiet, attentive. She’s gentle with her movements, soft on her feet. Kindness pours from her like a silver river, shimmering torrent of extreme beauty. Sunny is a tightly wound spring ready to bounce and it can go either way - into a beautiful dance, or complete chaos. She’s curious to a fault, more daring than any other child Finn has ever met, despite the controlled environment she grew in, and skips and jumps almost as much as Fuzz. Her soul is full of exuberant, endless joy. Finn thinks of Poe, when he sees her, and Sunny clearly adores him. She mentions him in her chatting constantly, and asks Finn about him - it seems like she somehow figured out Finn has a special connection with him and exploits it to get hourly updates. She’s cute and sweet and she knows about it and has Finn and half of the base wrapped around her little finger by the evening.

Nova tells him that she was the first one Poe named, before naming was even a thing, just offhandedly calling her sunny, as Poe does, generous with endearments, and it stuck. Sam and Fuzz were the only ones that had names from their time in the Order. When Poe let out how he named Finn, Fay and Gal demanded he named them as well, and Poe created their names from their serial numbers, much like he did Finn’s. Blast asked Nova to name him and as they just blasted their way out of the First Order base, that was the first thing that came to her mind and it caught on. Ema chose her name herself, although it was Poe who suggested she dropped “eM”.   

The day ends with six happy, well-fed children curled up in exhausted pile on a big bed and with Finn back at Poe’s side in the med-bay, warm and content with the the image of Ema’s face open and lit with joy, voice reverent with hope when she said to him just before he left:

“I’m starting to feel like we might be able to find place here.”             

The next morning, they drop the kids and Nova at the daycare and Finn takes Ema to talk to the General.

It was Finn’s idea to introduce the kids to Mundo and Ana and the rest of the youngsters living on the base as soon as possible. Ema was doubtful, but Nova agreed.

“They can’t be hiding behind our back the whole time,” she said. “We’ll need to start helping out as soon as possible and that’ll be hard if we’ll have them with us the whole time. They’re kids, they shouldn’t be involved in the war. Besides, meeting normal kids and having normal routine will be good for them. The sooner they began ordinary lives, the sooner they’ll forget about the First Order. No point putting that off, yeah?”

It was met with various degrees of fear and excitement amongst the children, but by the time Finn and Ema are leaving, Mundo’s easy calm, Ana’s friendliness and the general cheerfulness of a brightly coloured room filled with toys and smiling children that didn’t seem at all put off by having former Stormtroopers joining them (if anything, they treated them as some kind of heroes, and Finn’s special friends that are to be cherished) have won over everyone except Gal, who is still holding Nova’s hand and watching everything with big eyes rather than joining. The rest of them have been completely swallowed by a throng of Resistance children - in fact, they barely notice Ema shouting her goodbyes to them. After all, there are hands to hold and toys to explore and games to be played.

“This feels just like giving up a battalion of twelve year olds to the training,” she sighs to Finn.

“Except you’ll be still able to see them as often as you want and they’ll be playing instead of having target practise and learning about flowers and languages and mechanics instead of how to kill people,” Finn smiles. “Don’t worry. Ana and Mundo are my friends. And they’re great with kids. Your little squad will be as happy and cared for as they can possibly be.”

Finn doesn’t tell Ema he’s a bit nervous about this meeting. Something about Ema and the General, admittedly two most prominent female figures of his life meeting has him on edge. Only halfway through the conversation (Finn was allowed to stay in the room) he realises he was nervous about how they’d get along. He desperately wants them to like each other.

He can tell that Ema enters the room already with healthy amount of respect for The Resistance General. That only seems to grow when she finds out that what she probably assumed will be formal interrogation is instead a quiet chat with tea and crackers. Finn has to fight a smile remembering the first time he had a chat with the General - the trepidation he felt before he went in, expecting to be treated as a criminal and instead met with General’s kindness and patience.

They mostly talk about details of Ema’s escape and their journey to Aleidu but then the General starts asking about particulars of the First Order creche and it’s workings, something Finn wasn’t able to tell her much about but Ema is an expert on. As they get into the more cruel practises First Order bestows upon its children soldiers, General Organa’s face grows progressively more stormy.

Ema answers the questions calmly, emotionless and Finn isn’t quite sure if, like him, she doesn’t yet realise how wrong the First Order has been to all of them, how much they mistreated the kids, or if she just doesn’t want to let on how much this conversation pains her. The General seem so be wondering about the same thing, because at the end she asks:

“And you never thought this was wrong?”

Ema looks down and is silent for a while.

“Of course I knew it was wrong,” she says then and her voice trembles for the first time, all the pent up emotion spilling out now. “I knew exactly what they were doing the whole time, and how helpless I was to stop them. I knew that every child that came through my hands, every child I loved, I was sending to death. I knew they were monsters and I knew I was a monster too and it will be something I will carry in me for the rest of my life.”

“And yet you stayed all this time,” the General says not unkindly, but her eyes never leave Ema’s face, searching, judging.

Ema lifts her head and looks the General straight into eyes.

“I stayed because my leaving wouldn’t help anything. They would replace me with the next MT and more often than not, those women were cold and cruel. If mine was the only shred of love those children knew in their life, wasn’t it my duty to give it to them?” there’s a single tear rolling down Ema’s cheek and she does nothing to stop it. Finn, however, has to look away. It seems incredibly private, this barely contained pain he’s never witnessed with his eM. “It was horrible, what I was doing was horrible and it broke my heart over and over again, but tell me, General Organa, what mother would leave her children behind?”

General’s face softens and she gives small, barely there nod.

Finn has a strong inkling these two will like each other after all.

 

* * *

 

In the end, it’s only thanks to the ball of light in Finn’s chest that connects him to Poe that he’s there when Poe wakes up.

He’s in the mess with Ema, Nova and the children, having breakfast before the kids are due to the daycare, today staying there with Ema and Nova having her appraisal, when the Poe-ball, quiet and still behind his ribs for these past few days, suddenly glows warm and starts slowly turning around in his chest, and Finn is on his feet and running to the medbay before he properly registers what that means.

He enters Poe’s room right after Kalonia, who is busy checking Poe’s vitals. She turns around when she hears him enter and smiles.

“He’s waking up.”

“I know,” Finn answers and she rolls her eyes.

“The Force, right?” she asks with a grin and goes to leave, patting Finn’s cheek. “Well, at least you can stay with him and I can continue my morning rounds. When I leave it to Thule for too long, the screams begin.”

Finn chuckles at that, more than familiar with Thule’s bedside manner, or rather the lack of it. He sits next to Poe and grabs his hand almost automatically, but quickly drops it again when Poe’s eyes flutter, unsure what his reaction would be upon waking up with his hand trapped by Finn.

Poe gives a little groan first and then his eyes are open fully, blinking at the ceiling and Finn could cry at the sight of it.

“Hey, buddy,” he says very quietly and Poe’s head turns to him, but his eyes land on his face only briefly, before focusing on something behind Finn’s back and his face stretches into a smile.

“Poe!” Sunny’s bright voice sounds from behind Finn and he turns around quickly to see her standing in a doorway. Finn can’t believe she got past his senses - her footsteps, her breath, opening of the doors, even the Force signature, everything got buried until the flaming concern for Poe and joy of his waking. He resolves to be more vigilant in the future and also not telling the General about this momentary lapse in concentration. (“Always listen to what the Force has to tell you, Finn, always!”) She would probably double his training.

“Poe!” Sunny thrills again, darting past Finn to Poe’s bedside and she’s so bright and happy and relieved Finn can’t find it in himself to be annoyed, even though he hoped to catch a moment alone with Poe before the other man gets inevitably swarmed with visitors.     

“Sunny!” Poe says, his voice barely recognisable under the gravel of sleep.

 And Sunny, without an ounce of fear, climbs onto the bed and curls into Poe's arms. He hugs her back, smoother her hair and his eyes sparkle at Finn over her head.

"And how did you get in here, Little Star?"

"She's nimble like a fish, this one," Kalonia murmurs from where she's standing in the door. "Good morning, Commander."

"Morning, doctor," Poe grins.

Sunny sits up and looks over her shoulder and now Finn can feel her heart galloping and her face stiffens. She quickly looks back at Poe, her eyes huge and cheeks pale.

"Am I in trouble?" she asks, voice trembling. "Oh, Poe, I'm sorry, I just wanted to see you so much...!"

"It's okay, Little Star," Poe smiles petting her head again.

"You're not in trouble at all, sweetheart," Kalonia agrees. "But you shouldn't just run out without telling anyone. You could get lost, and Ema and Nova and all your friends must be very worried about you."

"Oh..." Sunny says, as if surprised by that notion.

"Alright, let Poe wake up properly," Kalonie extends her hand to Sunny and after a moment of hesitation and a pat on the back from Poe, she jumps off the bed and takes it. "We'll let Ema know where you are and you can stay with me while we wait for your friends to get here and then you can all go visit Poe. Don't you think they'd like that?"

"They would!" Sunny answers and with last look at Poe she lets herself to be led out of the room. "But why can Finn stay?"

Finn feels his cheeks heating up and is glad Kalonia's answer doesn't reach them as she and Sunny walk away.

And then Finn sits by Poe's side and looks at him, and Poe looks back, and it's silent.

“You came back,” Finn says finally.

“Of course I came back,” Poe murmurs. There’s something unsure in his voice, his face just slightly creased as if he was trying to figure Finn out.

Finn is incredibly pleased for a moment that he can still read Poe just as if he never left.

“I thought… We all thought you were dead.”

“That’s understandable. And it was quite clear to me when I returned to D’Qar and the base was deserted. I mean, I did wonder if y’all just got tired of me and hide, not gonna lie.”

And of course Poe Dameron would try to make this into a joke. His smile is bashful, self-deprecating. It invites Finn to join in on the joke.

And Finn kind of wants to. He wants to laugh it all off and continue right where he and Poe left off, like the past four months were nothing but a bad dream. But he also kind of wants to cry and rage and scream and hug Poe and maybe kiss him. He is kind of happy, kind of relieved, kind of scared and kind of mad.

He worked so hard with General Organa to learn how to separate his emotions, clear his head and mind for the Force, and what a year ago would be a furious, confusing storm inside his chest, he now stacks neatly like tower of wooden blocks. Every emotion is clear and Finn knows he has to feel all of them. And then let all of them go.

Why not begin with the anger.

“Don’t try to make this into a joke, Poe!” he says, voice loud and clear. With the tiniest bit of glee he observes Poe’s jaw go slack and his eyes wide at Finn’s unexpected reaction. It’s always bit of a thrill to catch Poe Dameron off guard.

“We all thought you were dead and it was awful! You can’t just pretend your life doesn’t mean anything when so many people love you and need you! And you promised we will talk when you come back! And then you never did! And I was waiting and waiting, because I thought you would never lie to me. But it turns out you just can’t not be a hero one single time. And you didn’t listen to your CO! _And_ you raised such alarm when you got back, we thought it’s the First Order attacking! You’re _such_ an idiot, Poe Dameron!”

Finn’s voice rings in the room and Poe stares and stares at Finn. Finn’s eyes are wet and he hastily wipes them on his sleeve. The General was right - it _does_ feel good to let go of one’s anger. And it does leave Finn just a bit emptier, just enough to be able to move to other, more important things.

“I’m sorry,” Poe says and it’s so genuine and sorrowful Finn’s heart aches. “I was trying really hard to come back home.”

“I know,” Finn says, his voice going soft now. “You’re still an idiot though. Everyone agrees.”

Poe gives him that bashful smile again and at that, Finn’s heart almost beats itself out of his chest.

“I can live with that,” Poe says and then his face goes more serious again. “About that talk…”

“We don’t have to have it right now,” Finn says. “But if you don’t mind, let me start.”

Finn reaches out to grab Poe’s hand and is delighted when Poe doesn’t shake him off, on the contrary, he turns his palm up and tangles his fingers with Finn’s.

“Be my guest,” Poe smiles. “I think I mainly owe you an apology, and that should come first, really, but I don’t think I can find the right words straight away and you’ve been waiting long enough…”

“So I start,” Finn stops Poe’s ramble, smiles and squeezes his hand to show he really is alright with this. He can feel Poe’s worry, stinging Finn’s nose, but also his concern, his care for Finn, warm and sweet. Poe’s instinct is still to protect Finn at all costs, to lead conversations, to play the role of an adult to Finn’s childlike wonder and inexperience.

“Because I had a lot of time to think what I would say to you if I had a chance,” Finn continues and it is true.

Finn definitely isn’t a child anymore.

He had thought about what happened that his and Poe’s friendship shattered so completely. He had thought about all the things he never told Poe and how no thought is too stupid or embarrassing to say. He had thought about how much he regretted things he hasn’t said. He had thought about mistakes he made and (later, reluctantly) about the ones Poe did.

He had thought and thought, turning every sadness, anger and desperation over and over in his head until they were smooth like a grains of sand chewed on by the ocean.

And he had also talked about it. With Ana, with Lyn, with Snap and eventually, with Thule.

And he came to quite a few conclusions, about Poe, and about himself.

Finn begged and begged the universe for a chance to talk to Poe too. And when he almost gave up, look.

Who knew that sometimes, universe grants wishes even to Stormtroopers.

“Thule was never my boyfriend,” Finn begins with, not because it’s the most important thing, but because it’s the easiest and it’s what really started the entire argument, so it’s for the best Finn deals with that first.

“And it was never my business!” Poe cuts in. “I should have not asked in the first place. And I definitely shouldn’t have behaved like a jerk whatever the answer would be. I’m sorry, Finn. I was just… It was just because…”

Poe trails off and avoids Finn’s eyes. His hand in in Finn’s is warm and trembling slightly.

“Because…?” Finn tilts his head to try and peak in Poe’s face, but Poe stubbornly keeps his eyes down. “Why, Poe?”

Finn can see Poe’s jaw tighten and then he breathes out and Finn knows him well enough to recognise the signs of Poe preparing himself to do something he’s afraid of.

“‘Cause I was jealous,” Poe mumbles, barely loud enough for Finn to hear.

And that’s all Finn needs to confirm his conclusions.

“That’s… That’s what Snap said,” Finn says and smiles when Poe mumbles back:

“Traitor.”

“I needed to know. It would be better if you told me, not just… Abandoned me. But it’s okay. Poe, look at me. It’s okay.”

Poe does look at him, after a moment of hesitation. His eyes are wide and fearful. His cheeks unnaturally red. His face is painfully thin.

He’s as beautiful as ever and Finn has never been more sure about anything.

“I’m glad,” he says, resolutely. “I’m glad, because if you kissed someone in front of me, if I thought you had a boyfriend or a girlfriend, I would be jealous too, you know.”

Poe’s eyes go impossibly wider. Finn’s hands are sweaty, even if he’s so, so sure about this, and the next words take all his courage to make.

“I love you, Poe,” he says simply, because he never had a way with words and this is the simplest, most honest truth and the only thing that matters.

Poe just looks at him, eyes and mouth open wide, and then slowly his expression changes as if all that confusing mix of emotions he must be feeling thawed away until only joy remained.

Inside, Finn can hear Poe’s heartbeat, quick and deep and sure. Poe’s hand still trembles in Finn’s, but the warmth of it travels up his arm straight to his heart and wraps itself around it just like a second later Poe himself wraps himself around Finn in a hug.

Finn can feel a slight pinch of pain from Poe as the movement pulls at Poe’s injury, but it’s soon lost in the feeling of grass warmed by sunshine, in the o-zone smell of a free flight, in something that feels a lot like General’s hand on Finn’s shoulder and Jess kiss on his cheek and the nursery when all the kids are asleep.

 _Love_ , the Force whispers to Finn. _Love, passion, tenderness, adoration. The power that makes the Galaxy turn._

Finn feels like all his doubts disappeared in a puff of smoke. Like they never existed in the first place. How could he ever not know that Poe Dameron loves him?

“Finn,” Poe murmurs into his collarbone.

“I’m so glad you’re home, even if you’re an idiot, Poe Dameron,” Finn tells him, sinking deeper into the embrace as Poe quietly snickers. “Please don’t leave again.”

“Okay,” Poe says and like Finn’s declaration, it’s simple, but it’s all they both need.

After few moments Poe pulls away, but he keeps hold of Finn’s arms.

“I love you too,” Poe says and his voice just barely shakes, his eyes are bright and clear like the sky on Aleidu and never leave Finn’s. “Can I kiss you?”

Finn doesn’t answer, just crushes his lips to Poe’s.

Poe chuckles against his lips, probably at Finn’s eagerness, but Finn doesn’t mind. He will greedily take any and every of Poe’s laughs and store them in his heart. Poe cups his face sweetly and adjust the angle a bit.

And then…

And then.

It’s nothing like Finn’s first kiss that was clumsy and just a tad too comfortable to be truly exciting. It’s nothing like Finn’s second kiss, that was also clumsy, but also full of fire that burnt just a bit too bright not to be painful.

This one is gentle and warm and still lightning Finn up from the inside in the sweetest, most alluring flame. He’s drawn to it like a moth to a candle, but he doesn’t burn, just sizzles gently in his toes and tips of his ears and deep in his belly, and Poe opens his mouth and it’s a promise, and it’s a declaration.

They say third time’s a charm, but no one said third time’s a perfection, Finn thinks and tangles his fingers in Poe’s hair, wishing it never ended.

But he has to breathe, and Poe too, and his breath holding skills are apparently inferior to Finn’s, because he is the one to gently pull away. (then again, maybe they’re not, because Finn feels a little light-headed.) Poe doesn’t pull far. He keeps his hands on Finn’s face and Finn keeps his hands in Poe’s hair and they rest their foreheads together.

It’s perfect in completely different way than he kiss. Like honeyed tea on Finn’s tongue and a song sung by the children, like talking to Poe’s flowers on D’Qar and polishing BB-8 with soft cloth, like every little, uncomplicated pleasure that life offers at once. The Force sings around them and it’s so _right._

“I think we still need to talk a bit more,” Poe hums, voice soft and content.

“Yeah. We made a right mess of _not_ talking,” Finn agrees. “But let’s do that in a little bit. We have time.”

“That we do,” Poe confirms.

It makes Finn smile. Poe could say they don’t, not really, because they’re in the middle of the war and Kalonia will come back with the kids any minute. But he doesn’t, because none of it is important. What is important is that they found each other, finally, through millions of stars and dozens of lost words, and that Poe is staying, for today and tomorrow and all the days after and they will talk and talk, and kiss and embrace and it won’t matter who sees. They’ll be there for each other, always. Finn can hear the promise in that.

And they do talk. Kalonia interrupts them after a long while, clearly not wanting to intrude, but Poe needs to be checked over and Finn needs to have lunch and run around and let everyone know Poe is awake and alright, _they’re_ alright, and could everyone keep their visit until tomorrow?

And then he’s right back at Poe’s bedside, and they talk and hug and maybe kiss some more and Finn keeps hold of Poe’s hand the entire time, sending the little ball of light from his chest to his fingertips and lets it dance from his palm to Poe’s and back, setting little playful happy sparks off in the gaps between their fingers.

Poe seems oblivious to it until the sun comes up for the third time and the machines and lights power down switching the Fulcrum base to a night mode. Only then he flexes his fingers in Finn’s palm and squints at their joined hands.

“How are you doing this?” Poe asks, warily eying his arm as Finn lets the light travel a higher up Poe’s veins.

“Oh, yeah, I haven’t told you?” Finn says with a glint in his eye, knowing all too well he hasn't. “It’s the Force. I can feel it, and control it. General Organa is training me to be a Jedi!”

Poe almost chokes on his spit and Finn almost chokes on how much he’s laughing.

Yep. It’ll always be a thrill to catch Poe Dameron off guard.

 

* * *

 

The night air on Aleidu is chilly, nothing like D’Qar, and Poe presses close to Finn. And Finn knows that at least partly he’s just stealing the body heat, but still the way he can casually wrap his arm around Poe’s shoulders and Poe looks up and gives him a brilliant smile has his stomach in swoop. Finn’s not sure he’ll ever get over this.

He hopes he doesn’t.

Rey with Luke Skywalker are coming tomorrow. Today, the whole base has been up and cleaning and preparing for the Jedi to finally come to them.

Finn finished earlier and came down to the hangars to help the pilots finish up and most of them ended on the landing strip when the sun suddenly set and one of the Hsyr's moons came out full and big and beautiful.

“Everything set?” Ema comes to stand next to Finn.

“Yup!” Poe nods cheerfully. Sunny skips over and grabs Poe’s hand.

“Are you ready for the Jedi, Little Star?” Poe asks her.

“Yeah!” Sunny looks up at Poe with adoring smile, and Finn realises her tone of voice is just like Jess’. Poe must have heard it too, because he looks at Finn with lifted eyebrows and eyes that say: “Do you hear that? Here comes the trouble!”

They share a grin and then Mundo comes over to take Sunny to bed.

“Nooo! You can’t make me!” she yells, trying to hide behind Poe. “Poe, save me!”

Poe laughs and Mondo looks in despair at Ema, who just puts her face in her hands, resigned.

“Do you miss First Order’s strictness, yet?” Poe teases her.

“Never,” Ema tells him sincerely and Poe’s expression softens. “But Sunny needs to listen and go to bed.”

Finn bends down so he can look Sunny in the eye.

“We’re all going to bed,” he tells her. “Need to be well rested for tomorrow. There won’t be any time for naps.”

“I never take naps during the day anyway!” says Sunny with a wild grin, statement which is confirmed by Mundo’s pained expression, but she eventually concedes to go to sleep and leaves holding Mundo’s hand and chatting ten kliks per second to him.

Poe shakes his head after them, laughing affectionately.

“You’re right. Time to sleep for everyone!” Ema says, smiles, and then unexpectedly kisses Finn’s cheek. “We’re all ready for tomorrow. You did well, my brave little soldier,” she says softly, gently, just like when Finn was a little boy and did something no one else would praise him for. “You did great, Finn.”

Ema gives him a final smile, pats Poe’s shoulder, and before Finn gathers an answer, walks back inside, collecting Nova who’s standing with Jess on her way in.

“She’s right, you know. You did great,” Poe smiles at him and kisses his other cheek, and Finn’s pretty sure neither Poe or Ema are talking about his efforts in coordinating Resistance’s spring clean today. “I’m so proud of you. Also, we should really go to sleep. Unless _you_ want to nap during the day and miss Rey’s arrival.”

Poe’s tone turns playful, but Finn doesn’t laugh. His throat is stuck and eyes hot. He looks up and away from Poe, at the stars.

It’s funny, how different they look here, and on D’Qar, and from a viewport of a spaceship. The stars are the same, but the perspective changes.

It’s quite fitting, actually, Finn thinks. He’s not the same person, after all.

“You okay?” Poe asks, worried now.

Finn looks back at him, at the man with crooked smile and kind eyes who lights him up from inside and with that, the hotness in his eyes spills over and… Huh.

“Finn?” Poe now looks a bit panicked.

“I didn’t cry,” Finn says, laughing softly with tear rolling down his cheeks and he probably looks a bit manic. “This whole time, I couldn’t cry. I wanted to, but I just… And now I do. Isn’t it ridiculous? I’m ridiculous!”

Finn laughs again and goes to wipe his tears, but Poe is faster. His touch is gentle as moonlight, soft as the spring air, loving as nothing but the warm light in Finn’s centre.

“You’re not ridiculous, dearheart,” he says, wiping Finn’s cheeks with a thumb, tear by tear. “You’re a human. You’re a good, good man.”

And then Poe kisses him under the stars, soft and sweet, and this.

This.

Happiness and love bloom in Finn’s chest. The feeling spreads, echoes off the joy of the people still out on tarmac, travels through the base. Finds the individual lights and they shine on the edge of Finn’s mind - the calm presence of Leia, strong, curious mind of Statura, friendly fires that are Jess and Snap and Chie and Ana and Mundo, Thule’s specific brand of prickly heat blending smoothly into Kalonia’s kindness, Ema and Nova familiar pricks of comfort, the sweet, swooping spirits of children. It warms Finn, and above all that there’s Poe, with his mouth on Finn’s and his warmth both on his skin and inside his chest and honestly, Finn has never been happier.

This. This is what being human is. Without rules, without guidelines how to do it well, all that is needed is this simple joy of living. This identity, that Finn managed to painstakingly carve for himself, that should belong to everyone from birth, just like that.

On Finalizer, FN-2187 was barely human, alone, detached and desperate. On D’Qar, he was Finn who felt too much and not enough, confused, drifting without a place to belong.

And now, he’s a soldier, a fighter, a teacher, a friend. Leia Organa’s apprentice. Nova’s brother. Ema’s surrogate son. Statura’s student. Sunny and Gal and Blast’s protector. Rey’s best friend.

Poe’s partner.

He’s a human that hurts and loses. He’s human who lives in the middle of war and there will be plenty of grief in his future. But he has a place and family, and right now he’s being kissed out of his skin.

The world isn’t perfect. But today was pretty great and tomorrow will be whatever Finn makes it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is done!!
> 
> I didn't manage to post it before the new film, but it's okay because I still like this version of life for Finn after TFA better :D And I'm so proud of this. It's not perfect, but it's by far the longest thing I ever wrote, and as much as it sometimes flowed, in other parts it fought me very step of the way and the fact I finished it is a little bit surprising to me :D There was so much in my head I didn't manage to put in here; so much stuff I found while editing I put into it thinking they'll pay off later or I'll set them up earlier nad then never did because I forgot I thought them up and only discovered them once it was all written, and it's long enough as it is, so I just left some things dangling. I love my Stormtrooper children and I made up so many future adventures for them I wish I could tell. Maybe some day.
> 
> I read a lot of things about Finn when TFA first came out and most fics either put Poe completely out of the story and let Finn figure himself out alone and when Poe returned to him Finn was already a complete person, or tied every bit of Finn's development with Poe and never quite let him be his own person. And while I like both versions, I really wanted something where Finn doesn't start his new life aloof and alone, where he has Poe by his side as a good friend, but also has time to figure things out on his own and has a chance to become his own person. Hence, Poe had to die :D I originally didn't plan on bringing him back, but it turns out I can't kill Poe Dameron. He's just too adorable. And it gave me an opportunity to bring back Finn's Stormtrooper friends and some new ones too. Did I mention I love my Stormtrooper children?
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this. I love this story and it makes me incredibly happy when other people love it too!
> 
> And, uh, I have a tumblr now I guess? It's **good-ones-were-taken.tumblr.com** (and I lowkey hate it and it's confusing the hell out of me lol) so if you want to, like, interact? Please do! Especially if you want to interact about HTBAF and Stormtrooper babies, and Star Wars and comics and musicals and Harry Potter and marbles and cats and anime, because i love talking about stuff I love! :D It's empty now but I might post some additional tidbits that don't warrant to be it's own fic but I couldn't squeeze it in tis one.


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